Saturday REALLY was going to be a quiet night in. Then a quiet drink out. Then a quiet drink in Vauxhall. Which was running late. So I went to Duckie and had a brilliant time.... And then finally went for that quiet drink.
It was great catching up with an old friend, but Barcode Vauxhall was HEAVING. If I did drugs, it'd be okay. No, it'd be fun. Instead, my vodka blanket just sighed and said "I'll be outside."
So, I stood there till half two, doing finger puppet dancing in a tiny pocket of space, surrounded by people grinning their heads off. And I think I had a good time, but... it was just this vast sea of slightly steaming muscle.
The night bus home stank. Really stank like a sweat orgy. After a quick game of "where's the tramp?" I realised it was me. Euw.