...a surf on three-foot glassy waves, with my two girlfriends - Nooma and Scarlet Johansson. We choose to unwind on our private beach with some Mojitos.
'Busted' are in my employ, building a second luxury beach hut. Matt calls over :
"Sir, we've been working solidly for fourteen days. We're so, so hot. Charlie has just collapsed. I think he may be dead."
"Do you think I get the midgets to put the hose on you every so often just for my own amusement ? Now, break's over - back to work."
Yet in my mind I am elsewhere. I wonder if some Provincial Rag somewhere needs my image processing skills. As I throw a stone somewhere into the bullseye of my thousand-yard stare, I wonder if I should go to them. Then I shake my head.
"What's that you said, pumpkin ?" asks Nooma.
"I'm not sure I said anything, did I angel ?" I reply.
"I think you muttered 'pipe dreams'..."
"Sorry... I was miles away," I say; and pour her another cocktail.
