Tonsils here today, gone tomorrow. 1/4 yes, 5/2 no

Tomorrow’s the big day. Pam Statements has booked me in for the operation,
to have my ‘nasty little remnants’ of tonsils removed. Since the
operation’s official date being put in the diary, about two weeks ago, it
has been an area banished from conversation and an issue solely for me, the
world’s greatest wimp, to deal with. I am such a drama queen, I have even
been to see a hynostist and am going again tonight, at nine ‘o clock, for a
quick top-up.

This morning, I went for a longer than usual run and thought, yet again (how
ridiculous), about what will happen if I die under ‘the general’. When I
extend my morning runs, it is normally to peel away from Hyde Park, run down
Sloane Street, and across to Chester Square, in hope that I may catch a
glimpse of our finest leader in the flesh. Sadly, I didnt see her, but as
usual, nodded my respect to the copper standing guard outside her house. I
did consider though, that SURELY god wouldn’t take me and leave Mrs T, all
on her own, in such a frail state, to fight against the punters and staff?
If I do though, depart for the pub and betting shop in the sky tomorrow, I
would have loved to have discussed with her what anarchy we could have
caused if we had teamed up when she was in power: no more lunch hours or
endless paid holidays, no sixth place on the golf or best-odds-guaranteed
allowed, corporal punishment for Lofty and Jozzer, and we could have sunk
Betfair like she sank the Belgrano! Imagine it Maggie, I could have been
your right-hand-man and Minister of Punters and Staff, flogging them daily.
We could even have had a secret affair!!! Oh such thoughts, I’m getting
over excited! We shall have to save them for the next life, Lady T!! Xx

In other operation related news today:

Pam Statements and Ivan Videos have both offered their full and unequivocal
support.

Gaul Wood is having a paid holiday and called from the airport to wish well.

The Elderly and Infirm are in position and revelling in the potential drama
of it all. My mum is coming up on Wednesday to mop my brow and feed me ice
cream.

Jayne Leggett (Not-Staff), a project manager for us, has sent me a walkman
with a relaxation tape to listen to. Her partner-in-crime, Margaret, has
also given me a pep-talk.

Fred Warfumstaw, a bookies clerk and old pal I knew from the dogs, has told
me that his tonsils went cancerous and when he had them chopped out he
didn’t feel a thing.

Bill Esdaile, our advertising man, who is offically hard, but also
officially the nicest person in the world, told me that he’s scared of
operations too. A nice gesture, although he was obviously lying.

At lunchtime, I went to Waterstones on Piccadilly with Andrew Needleman, to
stock up on some last minute emergency reading material. As usual, when I
muted my potential literary selections, Andrew accused me of being a dated
Graham Greene and George Orwell book salesman, still living in the 50’s. I
have, however, finalised the following mental companions to aid my
recuperation:

‘Titanic Thompson’, by Kevin Cook. The story of a not-staff puntery type,
around at the beginning of the 20th century.

‘King Rat’, by James Clavell. An A Needleman recommendation and is about a
Japanese war camp. I hope there’s an escape. Looks potentially exciting.

‘Moody’, by Wensley Clarkson. My favourite current true-crime writer and
author of my book of 2011, ‘Killing Charlie’.

Sourced Princess Yerka a thank-you present at Schwarovski, for aiding me
over the coming week. To be handed over, for inspection, this evening.

Last minute messages, if I die:

The Staff, please DO send out all new account cards ON THE DAY. We have
been through this MANY times. I WILL haunt you if you don’t.

Pam, please sharpen your sword and support Gaul Wood, holding him up, during
troubled times.

The Elderly and Infirm, please be more careful and move quicker when
crossing the road. Also, when eating not entirely dry food, particularly
with gravy, apply more concentration.

I thank you all!

Greed is good!

Ben x