Rain On My Parade

Well, thank you Mr Early Morning TV Weatherman. You massive great butt crack! I’d swear he said it was just going to be overcast at worst.

It wouldn’t have mattered but the people behind a new magazine starting up later in the year wanted to see me this afternoon. By the time I got into Central London to run a few errands before heading out to their offices near Hammersmith it started raining.

It would have helped if I hadn’t left the A-Z along with the company’s address on my desk. After a bus and tube ride, and a vague memory of where they were located, the rain started to ease by the time I found the place.

Two hours later, after talking about what they were looking for and discussing various feature articles, I left and stepped into an absolute deluge. Drying out on the ride back to Blackfriars for the mainline train meant stopping at South Ken where the carriage filled up with sodden and irritable kiddies who were tired from a day out at the museums. Sweet.

It looks like I’ve got the gig. Of course nothing's certain until after the first pay cheque is banked.