Mr. Dale's Diary

EXTRACTS from a diary that have been sent to Northern Voices. 

This is the diary of a man of our times. 
Any resemblance to anyone living is, of course, purely coincidental.

Friday 5th February 2016

Apologies for my recent absence. Meetings meetings meetings, they all want me. The big man’s sidekick did tell me to keep my head down, what a cheek, a grubby little man who looks more like a knackered ferret after a night out telling someone of my importance what to do. I was hoping a fact finding trip to somewhere in Asia (not the restaurant, a country) was going to come off. Organised by Trans World Arms Traders, it would have been lavish, just right for an immense man of status. But there have been floods there so I opted to stay here in the warm.

My man woke me with tea but no crumpet this morning. 'It’s parky out' he said. I stayed in bed, completing more expenses forms and flipping channels to see if the ex was on the chicken grills show yet.

Oh what a week of investigation this has been. So many meetings. So many parking fees to pay. I hear that someone who scurrilously claimed expenses is having a pop at your lord and master. And some quizzical type is jumping on the bandwagon. Pah. I am the man of power and influence in my fiefdom and have consequential earnings. And, it must be said, innocence and perfection.

These parking fees are a nightmare aren’t they, but what can one do ? The local transport system has no First Class sections, so how is it even possible for ME to use them? One must drive therefore, and pay the price of extortionate parking. Not my fault, as always. Therefore the people have to pay, and they know I am deserving.

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