16 December 2009 (Wednesday) - Back to the Chokey

Regular readers of this blog will know that one of its many features is a “Dates for the Diary” section. So often I find myself forgetting what’s going on, or agreeing to do several things that are all on the same day. Because of this, I’ve listed plans up to a year in advance, so I (and my loyal readers) can plan work shifts, rotas and holidays.

Why can’t everyone else be as organised? One of my favourite pubs is planning a beer festival – it starts tomorrow and runs for a week. Now, a beer festival like this must take some organising, so why didn’t they give me more notice? Having written quite a rant for today’s blog entry, I then went through my inbox – after all I get weekly emails from that pub. I then deleted the rant I’d written. Perhaps I should check my emails more often, or at least actually read them. If any of my loyal readers fancy a pint this Sunday afternoon, please let me know. After all, it would be rude not to support the booze-up.

I then popped to the post office to collect another Xmas card that didn’t have enough postage on it. Royal Mail must be coining it in. And then to the chokey for the ninth time. We were a tad late leaving what with trains being delayed. Today’s lame excuse was a lack of serviceable carriages – that’s a new one. And then McDonalds let me down – usually a never-fail place to get material for “CrackWatch”, today had very scant pickings. But the scran was good. I had something new – the McChicken McWrap and the McCheesy McChips. I’m not sure I could stretch my mouth round a Quarter Pounder just yet.

And then we walked up to HMP Slade. The WAGs were rather disappointing this time. In the past there has been what I would best describe as “boilers” who may once have been attractive in the early 70s, but no one has told them that was nearly forty years ago. And there have been the fit Russians. Today the “Great Unwashed” were only exceptional for their mediocrity.

My ninth visit, and yet another procedure for booking in. It’s never been the same process twice. Only one check-in this time, and no sniffer dog. And very soon we were in with “Norman Stanley” who, whilst being in fine form, did seem to be rather noticeably greyer. Perhaps he needs a haircut? We laughed for two hours, almost but not quite getting him to blow Fanta out of his nose. And all too soon we were hoiked out. Fifteen minutes earlier than usual, because tonight was the chokey’s carol service. You don’t think of prisons as having carol services, do you?

And then home, through the snow. The forecast snow has arrived, and we walked back through a light white dusting. There are parts of the world which contend with metres of snow for months at a time, but over here in the UK, the mere mention of the word is enough to bring the country grinding to a halt.

Meanwhile whilst everyone else is having a whale of a time in lego-land, spare a thought for the poor chap who has to do all the sweeping up. Mind you, he’s not only wearing orange dungarees, but also looking rather proud about it. Perhaps he’s just a little bit special…