I went to work this morning feeling a little neglected and disappointed about certain matters that I had previously commented on, and my mood was not lightened as I made a start. I picked up in Canary Wharf and was on my way into the City. At the first set of traffic lights a car pulled up alongside and the driver tooted its horn. “Where’s the Meridian Hotel” he said, and I purposely avoided the word ‘asked’ there. He was a big fat man with his stomach tight against the steering wheel. I asked “was there a please somewhere there?” At that he visibly sighed and then in an exaggerated fashion said “please.” I told him to F Off  except I actually filled in the missing letters after that “F.” It was then that I realised that there was a lady in the back of the cab and I immediately apoligised at which she reassured me that my apology was completely unnecessary. Unfortunately for the rest of my day I found more people akin to that motorist than that lady passenger.

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