1997 September
Thursday 18
Only three people in the entire world know about my battles with chocolate. I, Partridge (obviously); Sue Cook (obviously); and Michael, Linton Travel Tavern monkey-butler. To be clear, Michael's not actually a butler. I'm not sure precisely what his job title is, but he is loyal and personable (when he makes an effort to let me understand him) and he'd make a good butler. I Can't Believe [He's] Not Butler!
Yesterday was the THIRD DAY IN A ROW I've bought a prism of travel-size Toblerone and eaten them all over the course of an evening. And today I'm very likely to go out and do the same thing AGAIN. (They're reduced at John Menzies.) As Sue Cook always says, "When you start suffering withdrawal symptoms, that's when a habit becomes an addiction". She neglected to mention tolerance (in my case half-a-packet-a-day no longer suffices for my cravings, or "does it for me"), but I could go on about Sue's negligences ad infinitum.
I realised I needed to think about seeking help after I lost out on a corporate gig with Bradford & Bingley to Norman Pace. (Of Hale & Pace.) I'd underperformed at the meeting with the Bradford & Bingley bigwigs (or "B&BBW"s) because I had Toblerones in my head (not literally, that would be a health hazard). I also just didn't want to do it. But good luck to the chap, his career has yet to peak - I foresee his star rising to Jim Davidson levels. (Just as an example! Obviously Jim Davidson I cannot condone as a human being for his choice to be under the employ of ITV. What has the BBC ever done worthy of such spurn?)
Note to self: Remember to ask Lynn what The Woolwich said about my proposal for a potentially long and auspicious working relationship.
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