Jealousy

A lorry jacknifed across the road I used to take to my previous |genericjob| today. It landed diagonally across the only route north from East London. I know if I'd still been working there, this would have meant a four hour delay -- legitimate delay -- while I nipped into Chingford and got me a long lazy bacon sandwich. So many people used to bunk that job -- I once bunked an hour and wandered into a local cafe, to be served by someone who bunked off so regularly that they'd taken up the morning shift at their local greasy spoon.
Anyway, sheer jealousy got to me. As soon as I found a telephone box (not such an easy thing to find these days, but handily, there's one outside the cafe -- how neat is that?), I rang in late, regardless.
Rah!

Serendipity: if I hadn't bunked off, I wouldn't have been in a position to rip down all the white nationalist information leaflets from the phone box. Whatever happened to prozzers' calling cards? Part of a more innocent age?

Sleepwatch: 5 hours.
CNPS: I've seen 620, 720, 820, 920, 208 and 209, but still no 20.