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The man in the red pants (see 2001, 2002, 2003) accidentally slipped out of his red pants today. Ugh. Sideways through a leg hole in the middle of the park. I’d just finished eating, which is a blessing.

Poor guy. He didn’t notice for a little while, but when he did he tucked himself back in and looked around discretely in case anyone might have seen.

We lay back and stared up at the trees and tried to wipe the image from our minds.

It was a hot day. A day for wearing shorts, and the day of a thousand semi-naked bodies in Soho Square. It was the first day the sun had been able to stream in through my window, unobstructed by the scaffolding and mesh, and it felt like the first day of summer again. The whole of the season seemed to stretch out before us, but already we are half way through July, and closer to Christmas than to the last new year.

I need to book some holiday.

Mid-afternoon champagne left me suitably woolly-headed and struggling with my emails well before six, so it was as well that the day wound down quite comfortably and everyone slowly drifted away ahead of time, leaving me to try and reaquaint my fingers with the keyboard. Before long I gave up myself, though, and bumped into Steve’s Challenge and the Midnight Weatherman on the train home.

Offered them a lift from the station, which they accepted. At the first corner the car got itself over-excited and spat open the glove-box, spewing its contents over Weatherman’s lap, after which Steve’s Challenge seemed unable to control his laughter. It was good to see them both again - especially Steve, who I’ve not seen in months, quite literally.

In fact, thinking about it, it was probably nearer the last new year than it was to the halfway point between then and next Christmas.

And that was a long time ago.

This entry was posted on Friday, July 11th, 2003 at 11:38 pm and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.