Today I learnt that eating 400 bananas in a day could kill you, or least cause you serious harm, and Captain Cook is from Sunderland, my hometown. A colleague told me about Captain Cook this morning, although I've since checked Wikipedia and there's no mention of Sunderland, but I didn't hear him that clearly amid all the clatter in the staff canteen. To protect his identity I'll call him Chas. I can't think what the Sunderland connection could be. Maybe he had a short holiday or a 2nd home there, overlooking the sea. You'd think it would have sea views. I can't imagine him living too far inland, like Leeds or Carlisle, although the sea would probably have been a reminder of work when all he wanted to do was switch off and wind down at the end of the working day. I got chatting to Chas, who I've only seen in passing to and from the canteen, and he detected my accent when I struck up a mundane conversation about the lack of space around the tea and coffee making facilities. Chas is from Whitby.
On my way back from lunch I saw a bicycle helmet chained to a bike and all I could think of was how handy it would be to scrunch up the till receipt in my jacket pocket and throw it in there.
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