In the interests of pursuing hedonism, I decided to order a pizza last night from that esteemed establishment Dominos (mainly because they do Internet ordering and I am a child of the connected age/too damn lazy to pick up the phone.)

I also took my life in my hands by ordering some chicken drumstick things. I live life on the edge, me.

Shortly after, I received a call from a harrassed sounding chap:

He: "Are you sure you live at xxx?"

Me: "Yes, of course. I'm standing in it right now"

He: "You can't be. I'm at xxx and the door has been answered by a little old lady who doesn't look a Dominos kinda gal"

At once I was struck that, bearing in mind Deloreans only need to travel at 88mph to traverse time and Dominos drivers go far faster, maybe this chap had travelled to the future and was talking to my wife as she is in 30 years time (I have yet to move out, you see)

Me (hopefully): "This woman, is she bitter and twisted? Regretting the love she tossed aside for a few mere baubles? Bent down by decades of loss and loneliness?"

He: "No. But she does smell a bit of wee. Oh - hold on; that would be your pizza"

As it transpired he had merely gone to the wrong address.

*Sigh*