LAST NIGHT'S SHAG

Was Welsh and called John Rodriquez. Obviously.

Met him at the Black Cap in Camden. He was pretty but drunk. Not in a rolls-eyes-vomits-staggers way - just in an amiable/slightly repeating way.

Had a weird evening, lying in bed, baking alive thanks to the mini heatwave.

Every now and then he'd wake up and murmur a random fact from the night before

- "Did I mention I'd had 13 pints?"
- "You don't have a suit I can borrow do you?"
- "I've had thirteen pints. I'm still drunk."
- and, endearingly.... "Where am I?"

I think he amuses me.

He signed off sick the next day by text message. That's casual.