Not dead yet, and still have that compulsion to write this garbage. With anyone with a fair collection of marbles, throwing them as far as they can, the EFL had postponed all their fixtures, West Brom v Blues, meant my ticket gathers dust, print fading until it’s no longer a ticket, and just a piece of card. I needed my fix, I settled on a ground hop at Leamington Spa. I did my research, went on both clubs websites, made sure the game was on, before I left the flat. Trump, that paragon of level headed tolerance, (I have to say that, I can’t afford a lawyer, or build a wall) had stopped planes from mainland Europe, too late Donald, 47 deaths recorded in America as of Saturday morning. I was feeling like a fugitive, I know I’ve been a rubbish husband, awful parent, irritable work colleague, frustrating sibling, and boring friend, but these misdemeanors must’ve led to my conviction and sentencing in my unknowing absence, to house arrest. The bus driver had gloves on, not unusual, most bus drivers do, that steering wheel is hard on the hands after a while, but he had surgical ones on, as did the shop assistant, who I bought a lottery ticket off. I saw people who wouldn’t normally see the need to wear a surgical mask, wearing them, scarves were put up around people’s mouths. The panic buying has been ridiculous. People are stock piling things that even if they were to live to be 200, they will still have to leave the items in their will. I don’t know if the train driver was wearing surgical gloves, I didn’t see. The place where I work have put posters up, explaining how to wash our hands, very nice of them, but my Mother taught me how to wash them properly even before I was school age. I’ve worked in jobs where if I didn’t wash my hands, I left finger marks on my sandwiches, but thanks anyway, thanks for not putting paper towel dispensers up instead of hand dryers, and thanks for not putting up neet alcohol dispensers, both are used throughout the food industry, as they are not only more hygienic, but it was clinically found that hand dryers increased bacteria. I touched down in Leamington Spa, and walked into town, a town that looked and seemed quite posh, not a place I can ever see me living in, but it was nice. I went in The Benjamin Satchwell, Leamington’s Wetherspoons, I sat there with my pint, feeling that this would probably be the last ground hop of the season, possibly even my last anyway. I found out that the Isthmian League had suspended all their fixtures, I checked on Leamington’s game, it had been called off. I mulled it over, I had been irritated before, I was angry now. In the winter of 1952, there was over 4,000 deaths due to smog, even if, like me, you see winter as a 4 month season and summer only 2 months, that equates to at least 250 deaths per week. As I sat in Wetherspoons, staring at my pint, wondering what to do, the death toll for the whole the UK, stood at 11. We were having our free time, and free movement taken away from us, but how many non vital businesses, who employ 100 or more people in a single building, shutdown, whilst still paying their employees the full wage? Absolutely none, the greedy money men still have to make more money. While I’m at it, any minion out there whose employers are pressuring them into working extra hours because of panic buying, remember that when it’s all over, and we go back to normal, that those things that have been bought, and not needed, will ultimately lead to redundancies, so put money away. Anyone in the leisure sector, I hope you’ve been able to squirrel some money away, because you’re going to be made redundant first. Although I felt like punching or kicking an inanimate object to bits, I calmed down enough to refocus, and went in The Drawing Board, not back to one. Normally I would’ve taken several photos of this brilliantly quirky place, but my spirits had taken a huge battering, to be honest, I could’ve given up, there and then. If you’re into comics, (Not the ones you pay through the nose to go and see) then this is a must visit. There’s obviously been a lot of thought gone into the decor, and it looks very much a self indulgence, but if I ever manage to go back to Leamington, I’m heading back to this place.
“No deaths of Convid 19 though”
I put my head round the door of The Old Library, but couldn’t find the patience needed to wait to be served from the uninspiring selection of ales, so after what felt like 10 minutes, though probably closer to 5, I cut my losses, and got the train home, I really wasn’t in the mood, still not dead.