This post comes from Chris Lockie who writes things for fun and money on his website: http://www.cidlockie.com. It was originally posted there, but he's agreed to share it with all of you.
This is why leaving London is always a terrible idea.
One fine Tuesday lunchtime in February, with the late winter sun stressing the eyeballs and the Arctic wind whistling up the trouser leg, I set off for the Prince Regent, a pub on the Marylebone High Street, to meet a friend for lunch.
I have disembarked the tube at Warren Street, as it's the nearest I can get to my destination without having to change lines, and the weather's pleasant enough to warrant a stroll. Though my inclination is to eschew the main thoroughfares of London in favour of curious back-streets, I'm a little pushed for minutes on this occasion and head off down a busy Euston Road. Or at least I think I'm pushed; I have of course fouled up my timings and accidentally end up at the pub precisely fifteen minutes early, where I duly sit by myself at noon with a pint of some half British, half American ale, looking like the first lonely act in a play that won't end well.