When I had big interweb put in many people, including Big Interweb Provider, told me to install a firewall. Which I duly did, for I am not a fool, though at some point I do need to persuade one of those Lovely Geeks among you to come round and check I am indeed not doing the internet equivalent of lying in a gutter near Kings Cross at 1AM on a Saturday morning, legs akimbo and shouting "come and take me Big Boy." But I digress.
The point is, I now realise that what I really need is a reverse firewall. Something that will stop me sending messages and posts out into the ether while drunk, or at least, while drunk and morose (for, I hasten to add, no particularly good reason), as I look back fondly at my dissertation on the Culture List dealing in extenso with the green lights around Canary Wharf Tower, written at 2AM after a particularly splendid Inn Dinner.
Perhaps I should abandon that line of thought. Let me instead share with you some Tube-Fu, used only this evening. When standing at Tottenham Court Road, the Tube-Master notices that the first train, to Edgware, is 5 minutes away, and the train after that is 6 minutes away, and also to Edgware. The wise man knows that the better course is to hang back and take the second train. (If one wishes to go to Edgware, obvs. If one wanted the High Barnet branch it might still be the right train, but there would be other variables.)
But the true Tube-Master knows better. The true Tube-Master remains in the body of the crowd as though intending to take the first train. But when it arrives he carefully manipulates his approach so that the person before him is the last person on the train. As the rammed tube crawls away into the darkness, the true Tube-Master is left not only with a minute to wait for a near-empty tube, but at the front of the waiting crowd and able to position himself perfectly on the expected point of opening of the doors (if heading for Chalk Farm from TCR, the trailing edge of the lead door... oh, don't ask, it mainly has to do with where the people coming off will head).
The ultimate True Tube Master can then exchange congratulatory smiles with the Other True Tube Master next to him. If she is a cute woman, so much the better.
Writing this while vaguely watching re-runs of Sex and the City series one. Much more interesting back then, and intriguing to see how the style changed: much more narrated through the medium of Carrie's column back then.