Sometimes it can all go a bit pear shaped. We'd met at the assigned point for a spot of lunch and maybe a glass of beer. Central London, just a few steps from Waterloo station. It was all part of the plan.
And we had a great time. Enough of a good time to stay a little longer than the original plan. It turned me into the designated survivor for the walk back to the station. I wasn't actually planning to go to the station at all. I needed to head along Lower Marsh, but this was only a short diversion.
I'll put it down to the last sips of Malbec. My colleague had something fo a parity failure. The type where everything becomes suddenly discombobulated.
I've had many years of commuting from Waterloo and recognise that progressive move towards the festive season, where there are a few slightly damaged people on the last trains home.
But this was (a) November and (b) only around 8pm.
Also, This. Was. Not. A. Drill.
Anyway, I poured my colleague into one of the blue flagged seats (the ones that signify 'may need attention'), checked that the train wasn't going much further than the required stop (Weybridge on a train to Woking). Then time to say goodbye and frantically text ahead for collection at the destination.
One slight glitch because there were two trains within 8 minutes of one another departing Waterloo.
Let's just say it worked out fine and I could then make my way back to Lower Marsh.
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