Randomly Killing The French

Killed a Frenchwoman today. She was nice enough, and perky enough, and French, Stoved her head in slowly against a podium. Just...because.

I should explain, it wasn't particularly because she was French. And it certainly wasn't because she was a woman. I have no particular problem with French people - mainly because many English people do, and growing up in Wales, anyone that the English hated was alright by us. And I love women, of course - by far the majority of my pals are women. I'm pretty much the gay friend of a lot of women, except, as my wife is keen to point out, 'no no, he's not gay...he's just Welsh...'

It was just because she kept...on...talking.

Is there a word for the kind of ennui that comes over you when you're trapped in a room for hours on end with a bunch of people you don't know, and not one of them has the common decency to be a rampant serial killer.

Oh yeah, of course there is - conference.

Conferences are dreadful places to try and be a Disappearing Man. I think I woke up in a subliminally foul mood anyway, as a consequence of playing the Bob Cratchett role from yesterday and wanting to not be a humble servant, but in fact to take a 2x4 to the head of my particular Ebenezer. But there was Stuff To Do, so the 2x4ness had to be sublimated beneath what approximates a smile. We went down to the dining room for breakfast, where the boss was having bacon and sausages and eggs and mushrooms and toast and suchlike.
"Continental," sniffed the waiter.
"Eh?" I said.
"You're only allowed the Continental," said Mr Sniffy.
"Oh," I said. "Really?"
"Really," he pronounced, to rhyme with "Scum", "yes sir."

He didn't say anything for a while after that, possibly because I was holding his head under the surface of a big bowl of Greek yoghurt and raspberries.We ate some grapes and a slice or two of cheese and left, d to work, me to what passes for work. And there followed about three or four hours of extremely clever people talking about stuff I don't understand and about which I really couldn't give a toss. I took notes, which I'm fairly confident on reading them back, make no sense whatsoever. Then came lunch. The hotel we're in is brand spanking new. Clearly they have a few kinks to work out. Lunch was a series of not trays in an oval display, with a buffet-style caterpillar of people shuffling by unsavoury looking bits of stinking fish and chicken diablo and the like. I figured I could get away with just having a piece of bread. Three people ahead of me, some guy picked up the last chunk of bread. I kicked him quickly in the back of the shin, but he was a tough guy, and didn't drop the bread. I had to wait for the replenishment of the bread. And it didn't come. It continued not to come. People began to queue up behind me.
"Just go ahead," I said, "I'm waiting for the bread."
The bread didn't come. "That's it," said a waiter skimming by. "Is finish."
S'funny how odd people look with a bone china plate embedded in the back of their head. I went next door to a pub for a bowl of soup, and dammit, some fucking bread, feeling like Clint Eastwood in one of those movies where he just wants things his way, and ain't gonna rest till he gets it.
Then came the Frenchwoman.
She was talking about...erm...something. It had algebra in it. And it just...went...on.
Five minutes after I thought she couldn't possibly keep this up for another second, I got up, walked over to her, smiled, and gently, slwoly, ground her head into the podium...
Irritatingly, she kept on talking right to the end...

Sigh...

No, of course, none of these violent things really took place. It's just been a day of fantastical irritation and boredom. Didn't get to the gym after all last night, it had closed by the time I finished talking to you. Went tonight though. Looks pretty cool, but we didn't do anything there. Just looked. Maybe tomorrow. Ate another pizza though, so that was probably a bad idea. All of this will become academic once this conference...thing...is over with, and we can get back to some sort of routine...Honest, it will.