I’ve already found myself with a scary habit of saying ‘sure’ when I’m responding to a question in the affirmative.
Do you want a glass of wine? Sure!
Shall we go out tonight? Sure!!
Can we just go into this shop? Sure!!!
If anybody hears me say ‘sure’ on any future trip to the UK, you have my permission to shoot me.
So, the countdown has begun. After 33 years, I’m leaving the UK in just over four weeks, to start a new adventure in the United States. At least, I should be leaving, if I ever pack up all my belongings, book a flight and generally get my arse in gear. Leaving behind bourbon biscuits, Match Of The Day, HP sauce, Sky+ and The Guardian in my wake. Not to mention friends, family and Manchester United. All to head to a place where herbs have no ‘h’, fish and chips have no mushy peas, and presidents have no guilt at pardoning the crimes of their closest confidantes.
Still, there are some consolations, not least of which is the woman sitting by her door, eagerly waiting for me to get through the lengthy immigration
queue line so that we can start a new life together. However far it is from Sir Matt Busby Way, New York is the land of opportunity – and in a few short days, opportunity will be knocking for me.
In the meantime, I’m off to stock up on Branston Pickle…