Another day of data inspection and introspection brings to an end a whole week of much the same kind of stuff, so ending it with a rather ghostly self-portrait seems appropriate. Yes, I’m in a pub (The Albert), though not drinking rum.
Wire Man — his official name, according to the ‘information sheet’ he dutifully carries — sits in one corner of the Albert pub in Hebden and has done so for some years now. He is quite an interesting creation, but he doesn’t do much. Visitors like him at first. Then they get annoyed that he is basically occupying two seats in a prime spot, particularly on busy weekends (and they’re all busy at present).
I think this sums up this particular acquaintance. If the guy that you think is Jim doesn’t have a glass of red wine in front of him, then it’s not him.
Being 42 