How To Avoid A Hang Over Rule #3

Well, okay, so I wasn't technically hung over, but I did get more drunk than is generally advisable for one's health on Saturday night.

Generally speaking when you've been on a heady mixture of various Belgian beers and the odd Essex bitter for the best part of six hours and it's approaching midnight end it there. Call it a night. It's been fun; that's enough.

It's rarely a good idea to listen when someone says, "hey, my friend's band is playing around the corner. The don't come on til one. Let's go there."

Of course, when the person doing the encouraging is your girlfriend you just assume she has your best interests at heart.

Round the corner proved to be a half hour walk to a pub with more, h'mmm, how shall I put this? Local colour than many? A pub so off the beaten track it doesn't even make it onto the normally excellent fancyapint.com.

Anyway the band were pretty good...

Actually I have no idea if the band were any good or not. I've seen them before but Saturday night I could have been watching a Bangles tribute band for all I knew.

Rolling in just before four I'm pleased I resisted the little voice in the back of my head whispering "nightcap, nightcap." That would, I suspect, have been one too far.

Who am I kidding? I love going out and drinking and wandering around odd parts of London in the middle of the night. It's what makes the city so much fun. The sheer delight in being alive. And after a few years of being old before my time I seem to have bounced back in the other direction and at twenty-nine am being more like a twenty-two year old than I was at the time.