Diary of a Grumpy Old Git (27 page)

‘A good worker?’ he said. ‘Is that what he told you?’

‘I thought it was a bit strange,’ I said. ‘What with me being a lazy sod and everything. So why did you suggest that he keep me rather than Imran or Cathy?’

‘I didn’t,’ said Steve. ‘But it doesn’t really matter what I or anyone else suggests, the company can’t afford to get rid of you. You’ve been there for
over fifteen years. Have you any idea how much redundancy pay they’d owe you? I tried to manage you out by reducing your workload so much you’d feel unfulfilled and go, but it never
worked. You’ll be there until the place closes, I’m sure.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I think.’

Josh came over this morning to ask how I was getting on with the DDS brochure.

‘Not great,’ I said. ‘I think I need an extra week.’

‘An extra week?’ asked Josh. ‘To do 2,000 words?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘In fact, make it a fortnight. And I’ve been thinking about the hotdesking thing, too. I don’t want to do it. I’m happy where I am.’

Josh tutted, shook his head and went back to his office. I saved and closed my Word document. After all, that Scrabble was hardly going to play itself, was it?

We went out to the Italian restaurant for lunch again. This time Jen changed her order about twenty minutes after giving it, but still the waiters didn’t seem to mind.

‘Can I ask you a question?’

My neck tensed up. She wasn’t one of those women that talks about marriage after just a week, was she?

‘Go on,’ I said.

‘How soon did you know you were interested in me?’

‘About five seconds after I saw you.’

Jen blushed and looked down at her cutlery. I didn’t feel guilty because technically I wasn’t lying. I did fancy her five seconds after I saw her. It was only when she started
speaking that I became less interested, and that would be incredibly hard to explain during a romantic meal.

‘So you can guess my next question,’ said Jen. ‘What took you so long to make a move after I sent you the Valentine’s card?’

I went into town with Jen this afternoon. She dragged me around a million clothes shops, and then into a place that sold nothing but soap. They had honey soap, fig soap and even
something called ‘sea vegetable’. The pong of it all was worse than any body odour could ever be, and I had to go and wait outside while Jen browsed.

For some reason, it didn’t make me grumpy. All day I encountered things that should have made me grind my teeth down to tiny white stumps, like buskers, tourists and charity muggers, but I
didn’t mind at all. What’s going wrong with me? Maybe I’ve finally taken one of those ‘chill pills’ that Jez is always going on about. Maybe he slipped one into my
tea.

After Jen had accumulated an armful of carrier bags, we walked slowly down the street and popped into Starbucks. I waited in the queue while Jen dashed over to grab the last remaining free sofa.
The man in front of me, who was on his own, turned round and scowled.

I had to order Jen a ‘Grande skinny mocha Frapuccino with no cream’ and I didn’t even feel like punching myself in the face. Something very odd is going on.

I saw that little kid who stole my phone this morning. He was sitting on a bench and playing a hip hop track through the speakers of it. Not only was he inflicting his
horrendous tastes on everyone, but he was doing it with something that didn’t belong to him. I should have held him in a headlock until the police arrived, but I couldn’t be bothered.
Why not let him have the phone? He looked like he was getting a lot more enjoyment out of it than I ever did. I even found myself smiling and saying ‘good morning’ as I passed.

He looked up at me and shielded his eyes from the sun. ‘Piss off, you paedo,’ he said, before turning his attention back to the phone.

Ah, the younger generation. What a pleasant place this world will be when they’re in charge.

As you might have guessed, I’m going out with Jen now. I know the phrase ‘going out’ makes us sound like teenagers snogging in a bus shelter, but I can’t
think of a better one. I could say we’re boyfriend and girlfriend, but I’m not a boy any more and she’s not a girl, though she looks a lot younger than me. I could say we’re
‘in a relationship’ but that sounds too formal, and brings back horrendous memories of serious discussions with Sarah.

So here’s the thing. I started writing this diary to see how long I could stick with it. And to my surprise, I kept it going for almost four months. But it contains a number of unfortunate
remarks about Jen, based on my misguided first impressions. I don’t want her to see them, so I’m going to read this diary through once more, then take it out into the garden and burn
it. And after that I’m going to get on with the decking and watch my
Sopranos
box set.

I was just about to start reading the diary again when I got some new Facebook notifications. Jen has tagged us in some photos she took yesterday. An old friend who I
haven’t seen for years commented, ‘I can’t believe how great Sarah looks in these – even better than she did when I knew you!!! Lucky bastard.’

God, I hope Sarah saw that.

I’ve read the diary through again and I think it’s time to put it out of its misery. Looks like I won’t be recording my gripes for the rest of the year, although I’m
guessing that summer will be too wet and Christmas decorations will go on sale too early. I doubt I’ll miss it, though. I’ve already done enough ranting for one year.