M is for Manchester (Rousse)

At the meeting in Manchester B outlined a range of duties that I had not before realised were part of my role’s remit. He explained that these were bound to increase as he loosened his connection with work to explore “other interests”. I wondered whether I should show enthusiasm for the opportunities that this offered me, or was someone just taking advantage of me (again)?

Our conversation was interrupted when a contractor arrived carrying enormous multi-coloured acetate slides. Each slide was the dimension of a household door, and I couldn’t imagine the size of the projector that would be required to display them. B seemed very happy with the work completed and asked me to take over from this point onwards.

Then I remembered that I had left my MacBook Air on charge in a hut at Manchester Polytechnic. If I did not hurry to retrieve it, the machine would be stolen, along with all my passwords. With TPR at my side, I dashed out of the meeting, across the marble pavement that indicated the route of the Manchester city motorway that ran silently underground through the centre of town, and over the wasteland to the polytechnic building. I considered inviting PF along, but I didn’t know if he would be in lectures at the University of Manchester that day.

Unfortunately we got lost along the way and ended up driving into the hills of the Peak District along a single track road without any turning places. The further we drove, the more I panicked. My MacBook Air would surely have been stolen by now – and how on earth would I reach B’s meeting in London at 4pm if we were to spend the rest of the afternoon driving in the countryside miles from a mainline railway station?

This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a comment