Now here's a thing. Choir rehearsal on Thursday was followed by the customary refreshing glass of something in the Junkyard Dog, and in recent weeks these post-rehearsal (and post-Evensong) fluid replacement sessions have been getting longer and longer (which is a very good thing). Well we excelled on Thursday, being last out of the, by now dark, pub apart from two pissed off looking bar staff who were waiting to lock up. So 4 allegedly sensible adults find themselves on the pavement at half past midnight, all of whom are working the next day, and what is the suggestion? Do we all shake hands in a manly fashion / kiss and hug each other in a tactile way (depending on the respective sex of each person that is) as we say goodnight and go home to bed? Do we fuck. "Anybody fancy going to the dancing?" was the question posed, and indeed once the vote had been taken, off to the said dancing we jolly well went.
I am not a nightclub person, and neither obviously is CH, so we two boring farts sat and talked, no, shouted at each other - it was a club after all, while NG and MH danced round their handbags in a drunken dervish way. I fear it's the way forward, this dark o'clock drinking business!
And I was at work at ten past eight! In body anyway.