Harvey Franklin Jackson showered, shaved and dressed, clambering into his outsized golfing gear, which today was his favourite plus-fours and tweeds: it didn't look so out of places when he wore the braces necessary to keep his trousers up somewhere near his midriff. Then he set off for breakfast in the dining room, where he demanded to see the manager because the young waitress had brought warm milk for his americano rather than cold. When the duty manager turned out to be female, he berated her further for her poor management and insisted on reporting her in turn to a male colleague. Any male colleague.
Thankfully, his golf today would be at an all-male golf club where women were only allowed into the clubhouse to clean the toilets. Scowling, Harvey Franklin Jackson left his hotel, climbed into his outsized four-wheel drive hire car and set off down the driveway. Turning right, the last thing he saw in life was the large family saloon coming straight towards him, and the woman driving it. Harvey had forgotten to keep to the left side of the road.
Mercifully, the woman emerged unhurt.