I'm 'up North', enjoying the colourful local charm:

Cabby "so what team you support?"

Me "........"

Cabby ".......! They're shite!"

The prospect of a tip not looking too promising at this point

Cabby "my Probabtion Officer supported '.......', he got stabbed"

Me "and you follow?"

Cabby "United!"

Me "you're a long way from Guildford then aren't you?"

and, sadly, this stimulating badinage is curtailed by our arrival at the destination. And perhaps it is a good thing. For, if one were to choose the location of one's passing, it wouldn't be in the back of a Fiat Multipla, accompanied by the aroma of pie and stale vomit.

And the destination is the offices of our supplier. And it's downhill form here. Their Sales Director is a fuckwit. His sole purpose seems to be to visit fuckwittery on all in the vicinity. He spends the morning coffee break treating us to his views on the postal strike, which do involve 'sending in the army'. He's pre Big Bang, which is rare to see these days. He's from an age where sole criteria for getting a contract was that you'd buggered a chaps brother at boarding school. And I didn't, and I don't believe my MD did either - so he's misjudging his audience.

And his team are little better. The lead salesman mumbles through his presentation, fixated on his shoes. The techie is so nervous, he completely dries; and he's stood their gulping like a landed fish, whilst the Sales Director looks blithely on. Eventually we have to step in and get him a glass of water, or we'd still be there.

Mercifully we break for lunch. Note 'break for lunch', not 'lunch arrives' - because it doesn't. We're planning to pay these guys tens of millions for the IT contract. Not being able to get a plate of sandwiches to the right room, at the right time, doesn't inspire confidence.

And do they fill these awkward moments keeping us entertained with a little small talk? No, they do not, they take the opportunity to update their Blackberries. They're sitting there round the table, checking their emails, while we're starring at the walls.

At this point, my boss just gets up and walks - which I've got to give him credit for. I stay, dragging one of them away from some vitally important youtube clip in his inbox; and get a tour. Which actually pisses me off more.

'cause they're crap - operationally. They've got a similar set-up to ours, and they're rubbish at it. Despite the fact that, I assume, they actually give a fuck, and are working hard it - I'm running an operation which is at least twice as efficient. And that pisses me off; not because they're crap, but because I'm not - and I'm not getting the love for it.