A Test

Dear Octopus,


Have just returned from the Trocadero up between Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus, running an errand for Inky Squid. By way of self-congratulation for this act of unusual altruism I stopped off and played Time Crisis in the arcade, only to be roundly trounced by the computer and eyed warily (as though an imposter) by the gang of feral youths in puffer jackets assembled around the air hockey tables. I thought about asking one of them for a game, but wasn't certain that I could cope with getting stabbed by a nine-year-old in my lunch hour, or losing to one at air hockey.


Other than sourcing Christmas presents with increasing desperation, a big part of my week has been writing the quiz for our university friends' Christmas dinner this weekend. It's perhaps a sad indictment of myself that there will be fifteen of us there, although I only know six. And only six because three are my friends and the other three are those friends' girlfriends. To be fair I only had four friends at university (the other one now lives in Chicago), so I suppose with 75% of my university friends in attendance I should be pleased. The quiz is at present only a framework, although Captain Squid has been calling me hourly for nearly three days to insert sports questions. I'm beginning to run out of room on the form.


Becca has just returned from lunch with the Discovery Channel - which I had to miss in order to run the aforementioned errand for Inky Squid - having been given a CAMCORDER. Jeremy and Clare both got £50 of John Lewis vouchers. My rage is unparalleled. May go back to the Trocadero after work and challenge one of the nine-year-olds to that game of air hockey. Or get them to mug my colleagues at knife point for their startlingly ill-gotten gains, and offer to split the profits. 


While they're at it I might ask them to mug Catfish....I've calculated that she owes me circa £200 (cumulative dating expenditure, hurt feelings, loss of reputation, damage to pride etc). The chances of recovering the latter any time soon are, if today is anything to go by, slim at their most foolishly optimistic.


Your loving friend,


Action Squid