coming back from london all battered and bruised ( from the blogpost still in draft and will be submitted shortly) I thought I would ask John and Debbie out for a meal and some wine to say thanks for looking after my place while I was away. Of course, like a bull to a red rag, 18:30 we were on our way to Millenium-mmy, one of the local curry houses. John made it clear that after spending approx 3.3nanoseconds in bed due to watching the election coverage he wasnt up for a massive session, and I appriciate that. So, after the meal we went to The Jug for a bottle of red (john) and a bottle of white (me) and debbie swung between the two. I havent seen Rich for a while so we arranged to meet up at some point, somewhere, maybe, if we bumped into one another and the day ended in "y" and there was Stella on the tab, which of course, being friday and there being stella on the pump, we met.
Over the last couple of months ive developed a thing for the french women (see previous posts to be arrange) so it was nice to see a french lass in the Well, so after overhearing convos, we took the poor lass under our wings, and talked to her. Turns out she's been in the country for about 3 weeks, knows little english (although very impressive tho it is) and likes the music of the Well. In between the "Sowwie, I dunt understaand" of my geordie / drunken accent and Rich's "off his face but talks a little slowly than I", I think she almost gave up on us. Although after uncle Steve's "map of the UK on the back of a bar mat" education 30 mins, she understood why - although she was still confused that at my diagram, Scotland was larger than the beer stain that we called Wales (sorry John).
After the prospect of getting drunk under the table, we wished the lovely french lass a good night, and left her to drive home to the family she was staying with and hopefully meet up with her tomorrow night if we get out and drink beer :: Never ::