Sick Leave

I am rarely off sick. In fact my sick leave calender states that in the past thirteen years of continuous employment I have allotted just five days leave due to illness. Two days when my wisdom teeth were extracted and my gums were subsequently infected...aside from the pain there was a foul odour eminating from my mouth so it would have been too offensive to work. My (now ex) wife alledged that my breath always had a nasty taint. Two dentists trips later it was revealed the flesh of my lower left gum was rotting, literally.

One day sick when I contracted a nasty virus following a peace march through the centre of Wigan. It rained all day and I had forgotton adequate water proof wear.

I can't quite remember why I have taken the other two days but it stands to reason I was more than likely bed bound...

Oh and today I took as sick, my first sick day due to total inebriation the night before. Ray took me out for a drink post show, I was on a high as my theme for the evening - 'Boots, Shoes and Walking Aids' - invited two requests (two more than Pierre's show on Sunday), Ray took me for half a Cocksmith's Bottom then preceded to pour his heart out to me. Turns out the wiley so and so, Tony McNamara, is not only having his wicked way with the evil seamstress Mrs Nesbitt but is also romancing Ray's wife. Ray has been sleeping in his car (and drinking heavily judging the state of his attire and the acrid odour following him).

One half led to three and before I knew it we were sharing a cab to Lacey's, an over 30's singles night in Chorley. I can't remember much of the night except I woke this morning on my sofa, fully clothed with a half eaten pizza and the telephone receiver at my side. I also have a telephone number scribbled on the back of a Lambert and Butler packet, next to the name Dianne. I will call her when I have a little clarity on the evening's events, who knows - we could have kissed!