On my way to work

I have found, as all drivers do, a rat-run to work, one which I enjoy because it takes me past several landmarks from my youth. I’ve also discovered that it takes me past a sandwich shop, which is open at an early hour, and super-reasonably priced. Put it this way, even Asda can’t compete wth it.

So part of my ritual is to stop and to buy a tunafish sandwich – I can’t promise this won’t change, but that’s what I’m on at the moment.

This morning, the tunafish sandwich shelves were empty (I was too early, even by my standards). So some had freshly to be made (there isn’t a real rule about splitting infinitives, even according to Fowler, but I find it hard to split them, all the same, and ‘freshly to be made’ sounds a little bit weird).

The on-the-large-side – a bit rich coming from me – counter assistant looked me in the good eye. ‘Do you,’ she asked, ‘want healthy or normal?’

This is the twenty-first century.


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