May 4th 2018

Today we went to Alice’s dad’s sixtieth birthday party.

Weirdly, he’s not actually sixty until August, but it was technically a joint party with one of his mates so they had the part in May. Or something.

They hosted the party at a pub in Swindon that is notorious for being very, very cheap. I decided quite early on that, as a consequence of that, I planned to get very drunk tonight. In fact, that desire was so bad that literally twenty minutes after we arrived at the pub, the barmaid was already saying “the usual?” everytime I approached the bar with a debit card in my hand.

I’ve never had a ‘usual’ anywhere, but at that place I had one within an hour. And it only cost me like £12 per round. Although the bar staff had good memories, they didn’t seem to want to waste any product by filling up the glasses any more than half way.

Six vodka-oranges down, I surprise my new barmaid in when she said “same again?” and goes to pour a vodka-orange.


This time we got sambuca.

Until tomorrow, that was a collectively bad idea.


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