Missed my train this morning. A miserablist would blame it on new New Street, but that would be a fib as I'd have missed it anyway. If I'm looking for someone to blame it's the two lads who pulled up next to me and asked if I "was from round here". Given that it was five in the morning and I was walking my dog where else could I be from. I conceded that I was.
"Do you know where the brothel is?"
No skirting around. No humming and hawing. Straight out with it. Which is, I suppose, what he hoped to do a little later on.
My mind raced. Surely I'd know if there was a local brothel. You'd hear rumours at least. But in Moseley? That couldn't be right. I know a pile of local activists who'd parade up and down outside and make the whole thing unworkable. I said No.
"Oh come on. Cuddles?"
Ah. So I did know where the brothel was. By sheer chance, they had probably stumbled on the one bloke in Moseley who know where that was. Not for any dodgy reason, but simply because it was miles away and was round the corner from where I'd lived. I had, perhaps naively, assumed it was no longer operating having been raided by the police some years ago.
I directed them back to the ring road. Before heading off they asked if I had a recommendation.
It was early. I'd been taked by surprise by this whole conversation. It didn't occur to me to try and end it. I told them I knew where it was because I'd used to live round the corner, and walked my dog past where it was. They laughed in a yea-right-mate way.
I went on my way, suddenly wondering if I'd been the victim of some bizarre wind-up.
And missed my train.