I am walking back to my office from the university restaurant, where I ate a second rate pork chop with third rate lukewarm chips and read the abysmal excuse for a newspaper, the Irish Independent. I have learned my lesson about going to lunch too late.
It is raining on me quite heavily. I am cold. I have learned my lesson about leaving the house with only a T-shirt.
Something catches my eye. One of the myriad posters trying to drag me into some society or other. I look closer. The Literary and Historical Society has a list of the guests they have lined up for the coming year. The list is accompanied by a picture montage of said guests.
Who is that strikingly dignified bald man in the centre? It is only Captain Jean-Luc bloody Picard himself, Patrick Stewart! A better man than I would be able to react to this news with quiet interest. That man is not me. I will not be satisfied with anything short of a "w00t!"