Man, what a day! I swear, Bridgend’s got a way of throwin’ curveballs. Woke up this mornin’ thinkin’ it’d be just another boring gig. But nah, not today.
So, I’m sittin’ in my car, right? Parked on Dunraven Place, just chillin’. The sun’s out, birds are chirpin’, and I’m sippin’ my coffee like I’m some kinda king. Then, boom! My phone buzzes. It’s my client, some big shot from Cardiff. He’s in town for a meeting, and guess who’s gotta babysit him? Yep, yours truly.
I roll over to the meeting spot, which is at the old Bridgend Town Hall. Man, that place is a beauty! But it’s also a hotspot for trouble. I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what I need.” I park up, hop out, and start scanin’ the area. You never know who’s lurkin’ around, right?
So, my client shows up, all suited and booted. He’s actin’ like he owns the place. We head down to the High Street, and I’m tryin’ to keep it cool. But then, outta nowhere, this group of lads starts shoutin’. They’re messin’ about, throwin’ stuff, and I’m like, “Not today, boys.”
I’m gettin’ a bit heated, ya know? I mean, I’m here to protect this guy, not get into a brawl. But then, one of ‘em trips and falls right in front of us. Classic! I can’t help but laugh. My client’s lookin’ at me like I’m mad. I’m like, “C’mon, mate, lighten up!”
We finally get to the café on Talbot Street. Grab a quick bite, and I’m thinkin’ maybe this day ain’t so bad after all. But then, I spot a suspicious character hangin’ around. He’s got that look, ya know? The kind that screams trouble. My instincts kick in.
I keep an eye on him while my client’s busy chattin’ up the waitress. She’s cute, by the way. But I’m not here for that. I’m here to do my job. Suddenly, the guy makes a move. He’s headin’ straight for us. My heart’s racin’.
I step in front of my client, ready to throw down if I have to. But the dude just walks past us, mutterin’ somethin’ about the rugby match. Phew! That was a close one. I’m sweatin’ bullets, but I play it cool.
After that, we head over to the Bridgend Designer Outlet. I’m thinkin’ maybe I can grab a new jacket or somethin’. But nah, my client’s gotta do some shoppin’. I’m stuck waitin’ outside, watchin’ the world go by.
And let me tell ya, Bridgend’s got some characters. There’s this old bloke on a bench, feedin’ pigeons like it’s his full-time job. I’m crackin’ up, thinkin’ about how I’d love to see him try to chase off a seagull.
Then, outta nowhere, it starts rainin’. Typical Welsh weather, right? I’m soaked, my hair’s a mess, and I’m just tryin’ to keep my cool. My client finally comes out, bags in hand, lookin’ pleased as punch. I’m like, “Mate, you owe me a pint after this!”
We head back to the car, and I’m thinkin’ the day’s finally winding down. But nope! Traffic’s a nightmare on the A473. I’m stuck, losin’ my mind. I’m yellin’ at the radio, tryin’ to find a decent tune.
Finally, we make it back to the hotel. I’m exhausted, but I can’t help but feel a bit proud. I mean, I kept my client safe, dealt with some craziness, and survived Bridgend in one piece.
As I’m walkin’ to my car, I see that old bloke again. He’s still there, still feedin’ those pigeons. I chuckle to myself. Maybe Bridgend ain’t so bad after all. Just another day in the life of a bodyguard, right?