29 January.
Slough Town are in town, so to speak.
TLF’s plan was to adopt a relaxed and abstemious approach to the day. No turnstile duties, no rush. A late departure from TLF Towers, a quick lurk around the city centre and arrive just in time to fit in a single beer before kick off (that’s abstemious in TLF’s book) with no demands or pressures.
Lesson of the day. Don’t lurk around the turnstile hut talking to your turnstile operating football bestie, because if there is a surge you’ll be asked to help out. A reinforcement turnstile operator, sans turnstile. The only thing between punters and the open side gate was TLF.
Not a problem, TLF just needs to get in touch with her inner Gandalf at the bridge of Khazad Dum a la “You shall not pass!” Although TLF is not for a minute suggesting any of those attending the fixture, resemble the Balrog.
Except it is a problem, because TLF does not have a staff or any wizard magic. She has a portable scanner. Which isn’t working.
So TLF employs what some of you may have heard of. We call them E-Y-E-S. And if you use them to look at a QR code on a phone, and check the game that it relates to, on phone or printed paper, through the imaginary turnstile the punter may go accompanied by additional technology related badinage and banter.
The surge is over quickly and TLF is off the hook and steps AWAY from the turnstile hut. A less than inspiring 1-0 win follows. But TLF will take that. Unlike the bloody portable scanner.
Technophobe Fox