We’d actually got to bed early, but that was tempting fate, taunting the gods, putting karma on the barbecue.
There was a crash and a screech and clatter. A man was shouting, a crowd was roaring at his back, we both propped ourselves up on our elbows letting cool air into the duvet which woke us up even more. More clattering, more shouting and roaring but the voice was a little easier to understand, assisted the alarming loudness …Andy Murray…crrr…ssshhhhhh…crowd roars…winner…Bang! The van driver slammed the door behind him cutting the volume to nearly nothing.
It was 0204. As nice as it was for a Scotsman to win big in the colonies, I don’t think that Morton’s Bakery should fit PA systems to their delivery vans to broadcast live sports to an audience which is uninvited, uninterested and sleeping.
I’m shortly going to down to the shop to order one of those rolls with bacon slung inside it, does that make a collaborator in antisocial behavior? I can live with it, I’ve seen worse.

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