The cook is off sick at Real Man Pizza Company, my quirky Celtic Italian restaurant in Clerkenwell. As luck should have it I am in town and as luck should have it we enjoyed our busiest Friday lunchtime in living memory. At 3 PM I emerged from the kitchen a sweaty wreck, cursing poor Fabio for being ill on this day of all days. And then I saw a long, long line of red buses parked outside.
I wandered out. The road was taped off. I asked what was up. It seems that a cyclist was killed at the junction just up the road. It rather puts my temporary issues into perspective.