You have a delivery round stuffed full of properties that have just had railings, gates and doors painted in black paint.
So you wait until someone turns up in a black suit to give them the delivery round, don’t you?
And of course, when the delivery round also has the little trap for the numerically conventional of numbers 1 and 2 on one road being located between numbers 60 and 61, you wait not only for someone in a black suit to turn up, but someone who you think can handle the tricky stuff, don’t you?
Oh, and when you also know the delivery round includes doors with drying paint that are therefore wedged open, obstructing the letterboxes and requiring a one-footed pirouette around the dustbins, hanging on to a door handle with one hand whilst the other reaches out to flip open the letterbox and also place a piece of paper in it, all in one graceful movement, you wait for a highly quality deliverer, dressed in black who you judge to have balletic grace, don’t you?
And finally, when you know the said delivery round also contains Kensington & Chelsea’s most aggressive squirrels, you wait for the black suited, skilled, balletic tough guy to turn up, don’t you?
So, thank you Robin for picking me for that delivery round. I’m flattered and not bitter. Honest.
What then to make of this evening’s resident surveying in Richmond, again a task handed out by Robin? Flat roads, rational number systems, nice residents. Not a challenge in sight. And even the fun curio of a deeply segregated patch. Segregated, that is, between noisy dogs, dominating the first street and a half, and then the dogs disappeared completely as we headed round the corner to the second part of the patch, dominated by cute cats. (Four to be precise.)
With such an easy task, I can only conclude that Robin has lost faith in me. (And I do wonder who was in that helicopter circling overhead; a middle-managing campaign organiser keeping tags on people perhaps…?)