Well done and you know what you deserve it.
Try as I might, I can’t fault you and I’ve tried, oh yes!
On the way out tell them you’ll see them all next week, but you know by then you’ll be deathly white and bobbing in the sea.
Tell them all is well and show them your prosperity with a twenty pound round that no-one gives a shit about and on the way out, tell them you’ll see them all next week.
Show them all your new phone with the apps that help you when your car is fucked and they will not give a fuck as you say “goodnight and I hope I’ll see you all next week.”
They will see you next week as they fish your pale body out of a cold November sea and they’ll all say “He always bought a round, he was doing so well and he always said goodbye and I’ll see you all next week, I’ll see you all next week.”
He had a new phone they’ll say, he didn’t seem desperate.
“He didn’t have an app for that – I don’t think they’re onto it yet. An app for despair. A desperate app: ‘DES app?”
“Maybe directions to a desolate place, or a ticket to Beachy Head?”
“Or maybe a ‘Things aren’t that bad’ app.”
“And we’re glad we stopped him jumping into the sea.”
“And we’re glad he warmed to us as we wrapped a lovely blanket round him as he asked for an iPhone charger.”