I am Nora

I come here to confess my sins. Forgive me, for I have done it again.

A gay who both I and my flatmate know was having a birthday lunch today at a well-known restaurant on Old Compton Street.

Yes, the restaurant, not the cafe near G-A-Y.

A few weeks ago, when I got the invite, I had said I would attend, my flatmate was going to as well. As the day crept closer so I began to regret having said yes.

That restaurant is just not my cup of Mojito. It's just tired and - I don't like it.

So on Friday I made this elaborate excuse that I had been called into work unexpectedly (I work in an industry where this can easily happen) and hoped that this would be enough to get me out of going.

I said I had to start at 2pm so since they were meeting at 1pm I could stop in for a glass of orange and lemonade which I did.

Thankfully, just as the conversation turned to the Selfridges sale and Kylie so I glanced at my watch.

"Oops! Gotta go to work, guys..."

I'm at the end of Old Compton Street when I realise that after their birthday lunch they're probably going to go back to our flat a.k.a. "Let's all go back to Bobby and Anna's place because a/ it's close, b/ they have good furnishings and c/ they have a guest loo."

Hence this rules me out being able to go home and hide incase everyone pitches up after lunch.

I then realise that there's nothing I can do except wander the streets of London for a few hours. After about 20 minutes of ambling around I get really bored so I decide that there's only one thing to do, to kill time.

Yes, I have come into the office.

I have the TV on, a printer at my disposal and a 17litre bottle of water from the cooler.

Now you may be wondering why I didn't take one of the following options instead:
1/ Find another friend to hang out with
2/ Go to the cinema / gym / spend Sunday evening in a sauna
3/ Sit on the Circle line all evening going around in circles reading a book

And these are the reasons why:
1/ Once you've told one lie to one group of people it's a bit bad to start compounding it. i.e. "I had tea with Bobby last weekend." "Oh really, he said he had to work" etc.
Or what about "somebody pick-pocketed me." "What, while you were in the office?"
Or what about my housemate phones me "I've locked myself out , what time are you coming home and why does it sound like you're in the middle of Oxford Street?"

2/ Nothing at the movies that I really want to see (except for Charlie's War), went to gym this morning and spending Sunday evening wasting time at a sauna is even worse than having to endure Ballends.

3/ There were delays.

Right now I feel like Nora Nofriends sitting here hiding. You know what it's like though - sometimes you really cannot be bothered.

I always used to say that one luxury in life is not having to do anything you don't want to do.

I just didn't realise that sometimes this would mean having to hide out in the office on a Sunday night with nothing to do.

Maybe I should go and do something useful like photocopy my cock or spunk in the coffee creamer.