Being obsessive/compulsive about planning things, I had this day pre-planned to a T. I was to meet D at Gatwick Airport where the taxis gather. D and I worked together on a publication at my last publishing company. He's in Saskatoon, I was in New York, and the rest of the lot were in Surrey, where typesetting was done. The printing is done in the West Country. That's the e-world in action. Lots of email and overnight packages.
Now, since I left the last publishing house, when a new company bought us, the New York office has been downsized like crazy, but the UK office has been left as is, and is thriving, I am happy to find. Most of the folks I worked with there are still there, and they were happy to see me. So, we go on my pre-arranged lunch. It's a lovely sunny day so the gang there decides eating outside the pub on the lawn at the picnic tables would be a nice idea.
I once again have fish and chips, since you can never have too much of a good thing. I also an unfortunate tomato and onion salad. Unfortunate because I forget how iffy tomatoes can be, and how pale they can look, and how flavorless and chewy they are when they are pale. I also had a lemon-lime concoction. It's hard to describe. Sort of tart with a minimum of fizz.
I wind up sitting with J and D, and J says she's glad that everyone who "knows and loves Seth" is at lunch. There's about eight of us. Luckily, there are more than eight people who know and love me in this world. There's even more than eight in the UK. I am fortunate.
We're munching away happily in the sun when we see an odd sight--a picnic table complete with umbrella capsizes right there on land. Seems an older man and woman, both heavy, sat on the same side of the picnic table, which featured seats attached to the table.
We went back to the office after lunch and D and I sat in J's office and chatted a while. J will be heading a much enlarged staff in new offices at year's end. J currently manages fewer than 15 and now there will be in excess of 35 people. She has picked office midway between the current place, in Newdigate, and the other office being merged in.
J's office is in the back of the one-storey structure, and her windows look out upon a farm. Cows and horses have greeted her some days. I was glad to be here again, in this smallish office with it's contiguous well-organized staff, who are always professional yet fun. Everything changes, and soon enough this will change too. It's good to spend a sunny afternoon in an unlit office with a green field for animals just a yard away. I love my skyline views, but every time I spend this much time out of doors, near nature, I feel like I have to question just about everything in my life, quite frankly.
A new employee I don't know drives me and D to Gatwick. We take the express train (£10.20) to Victoria, and then meet up with D's wife at an oddly quiet pub. Oddly quiet as it's a balmy Friday in London, which is swimming with people who've worked all day or been touring. I am completely mad for Indian food, and S and D allow me to strongarm them, so we go to a Balti house near Seven Dials. I am told the next day by a man in Warwickshire that balti means bucket, and that's sort of how it's served to you. They bring a cast-iron pot to the table. The food is in a thick tomatoey sauce. I had a lamb vindaloo balti, and I polished it off. S was still a bit sick from the previous night's libations, so she had plenty left over.
We're in a gay part of town. A preponderance of men in ultrafashionable tight shirts I could never get away with wearing, and muscles, drinking out on the street. The British let you drink openly onthe street, something that's against NYC law. Il Duce Due, Mayor Giuliani, would go nuts here.
It's late when we walk to the Embankment tube stop. We practically have to wade through all the folk in the street. London is just awash in people. It's worse than New York, I think, sometimes. I think I like cities better during recessions. No so many ambitious folks with mobile phone out and about.
The construction on the Jubilee line extension is finally over, and I transfer to the Jubilee line at Westminster. The station's transfer area is massive, especially on a London scale, where the older stations are about 25% smaller, in terms of escalators and stairs. D and S told me earlier they plan on making a tour of all the new, airy stations. The extention goes along the south bank of the Thames, linking up to some of the other stations, and inevitably to the whole system, after crossing the East London line and area around Greenwich, home of the idiotic Millennium Dome.
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