Wednesday, 5 November 2008

Battered

No, not the sausages. They are still in my fridge, waiting for me to be at home long enough to cook and eat a proper meal.

My knees.

Guess what I did yesterday? I fell over! Yay me! And yes, I know that everyone who knows me is slapping their foreheads and going "Oh not again!" to themselves.

My Arch Nemesis, Doctor Gravity, never sleeps.

I was on my way to Middle Sis's house after work, and had successfully negotiated the majority of the Victoria line without falling down a hole, or being eaten by rats, which I felt was a bit of an achievement.

My troubles began at Walthamstow. As do so many troubles, I suppose.

I staggered up onto the platform looking for a ticket office, because the Oyster system ends at Walthamstow and you have to buy a paper ticket.

How last century! Paper!

Anyhoo, I was too busy looking for the ticket place that I didn't see a small* lumpy bit of platform, tripped, and fell over. Not a discreet stumble, either...this was a full body splat, complete with swearing. Several kindly commuters rushed to my aid, and none of them tried to nick my bag, which was nice.

And today I have truly magnificent bruises on both knees, and have slightly damaged my engagement ring, so will need to go and get it sorted by a jeweller.

So ARSE to Walthamstow station.

On the plus side, once I managaed to navigate the rest of the way to Middle Sis's house, we all went out for a sumptuous Thai meal to celebrate Bro-in-Law's birthday, which was excellent. Mmmmmm. Thai.

Other Tube news: Saw Phil Jupitus at Embankment looking rather like a 19th Century Russian nobleman.

Spent today at a conference in the Royal Lancaster hotel, which I can recommend. I only saw the conference room and the dining room, but it was very nice. Lunch was excellent. I always feel a bit like a street urchin when I go into a hotel like that, though. You know, having to resist the urge to wipe my nose on my sleeve and offer to shine people's shoes or hold their horses for them.

I expect the Royal Lancaster has special sleeve wipers and horse holders of its own. In bowler hats.

Another long day though. Just as well I don't go into the office on a Wednesday....although, hey...wait....



*alright, teeny. But definitely big enough to make me fall over.

6 comments:

badgerdaddy said...

Is the Royal Lancaster in Kensington? If it's the one I think it is, it's where the 1966 World Cup winners went after the game to show off the trophy and get shitfaced.

Hang on, that might be the Royal Garden. I can't remember.

livesbythewoods said...

It's right opposite Hyde Park. V smart. Fab food. Good job I wasn't paying, really.

justme said...

Poor knees! Falling over is never fun....
And neither is Walthamstow station.

livesbythewoods said...

Nope, both were experiences I could have lived without.

Spencer said...

I have to give you credit for never doing anything, especially falling over, in a half arsed fashion.

Dr G

livesbythewoods said...

Ahhhh Spencer.....you have witnessed some of my finest encounters with Doctor Gravity.

The bruises really are spectacular, but I managed not to bleed everywhere this time, for a change.