Everybody Loved Raymond.

30 May

So you arseholes all neglected to tell me that Plymouth Argyle were playing at Wembley today. Thanks guys, I thought we were meant to be friends. I got to the station at 6:30am only to be greeted by a sea of green and white and the most sinking of feelings, mostly because I knew I wasn’t going to get my usual train nap. As it turned out, I got quite lucky – my carriage was chatty, but not overly so for the time of day (even with people already cracking out beers) and I wasn’t trapped with a load of overexcited Argyle fans singing at the top of their voices unlike those in carriage C.

But even without my nap, today was actually quite a nice one at work. It was busy but not packed, and the weather meant everyone was rather pleasant. I didn’t even mind staying a bit later in order to hang some showmaterial in the store, which involved going up a ladder and didn’t result in me falling off and breaking something or someone because I am an adult human who can actually do things successfully. To a certain degree.

The train back wasn’t bad either, as the sun was just starting to set, which gave the view out of the window a glorious orange tint. There was also a tiny boy called Raymond (not Ray. Raymond. Amazing.) who insisted on running up and down the aisle for the entire journey whilst eating biscuits and clearly not giving a damn what anybody thought of him. It’s easy to do that when you’re five, not so much when you’re twenty five. 


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