Brief Encounters of the Drunk Kind

The old boy’s called from the train, drunk(ish) he has made a friend – John – whilst on the journey home, who has grabbed the mobile and told me that he fancies Steve, it sounds like the start of something special and as with many important events in the 21st century, I have shared the moment via the auspices of the mobile. They’re on the wrong train btw, goes without saying really.


  • 12.21 am. Kinda early for him to be getting home. Let’s hope he stands his round next time out rather than coming out with a “gotta dash” when it’s his turn to hit the bar.

  • Well my train did get me home at 2.30 am from which I am now recovering. I also made a friend on the way home. For some reason I spoke with the venture capitalist (in whose mini-cab I found my self)’s girlfriend in Toronto. I have no idea what I said, but if it was anything like what I said to the tory candidate as I left the restaurant, I won’t be getting any venture capital in the near future. (Does any of the above make any sense at all?)

  • Perfect sense dear Ivan. And it just goes to show that no matter where, no matter when, you and Steve always manage make friends. And I’m sure that the girlfriend in Toronto felt just as comforted that her partner had fallen in with such fine company.

  • Anyway, to finish my story of absolute drunkenness: at the end of the evening I couldn’t find my bag. I ran round the room asking about it, but no-one had it. Over the weekend I had come to terms with it having been nicked (iPod, GPS, diary, kids photos, life). But this morning Jan the PA phoned to ask if I had by any chance booked it into the cloakroom at the restaurant. By crikey, did I ever get such a memory flashback. Yes, and opening my wallet there was a little pink ticket. Praise be (and no, I won’t be drinking like that ever again).

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