Left a good job in the city

When you get into your thirties (I was going to write ‘when you get to my age’, but (a) that sounds like my father, and (b) you probably don’t know how old I am anyway. I’m in my thirties. Take my word for it.), you have met quite a few people. When, like me, you remember faces but not names, a lot of people tend to look quite familiar. There are only so many basic combinations of facial characteristics, and after a while – or a few drinks – everyone starts to look familiar. The effect of this hitherto unremarked phenomenon is that you spend a while re-introducing yourself to people you have never actually met before. Until you get the hang of it that is, then you assume you know no-one, and introduce yourself anew to people that your wife claims you've met a dozen times.
Oh, bugger.

Listening to: Van Morrison: Astral Weeks