Huzzah! I’m writing this, which means I didn’t crash my bike into a skip and tragically (hilariously) die covered in soiled mattresses and used condoms. People put that stuff in skips, right?
For any of my readers who looked down upon my apparent cycling under the influence, fear not! I had very few drinks, most of which were tiny Belgian beers. One was chocolate, and it was frigging amazing, so how could it have been bad for me? Okay, so I did have a one little scotch just before heading home, but I didn’t enjoy it so I think, psychically, it didn’t affect me. Sound logic.
Anyway, I made it home in one piece so the proof’s really in the pudding. You can’t prove a thing, lawman! Actually, I had rather a worse pedalling experience without the hindrance of alcohol on my way to the train station, where I’m currently writing this*. I’m on my way to York (surprise, surprise) so I can attend the premiere screening of a short film, Persistence, that I helped out on as script supervisor. The film’s in Polish, which was a novel experience. I’m considering commencing an experiment in liveblogging after the show – interviewing cast, crew, anyone who’ll fall unconscious from a netbook to the head – so you’ll hear all about it if I follow through. Just like the fat kid on a school trip!
Anyway, I originally intended to get to York around 4 – it’s now 6 and change – but having to deal with my dog’s sunlight-activated insanity (don’t ask) and deciding I needed a haircut for what I suspect will turn out to be a filmmakers’ piss-up (despite evidence to the contrary, I’m really quite vain) meant that I ended up missing rather a few departing trains. I thought I’d misplaced my railcard (perks/problems of being young and foolish) and was halfway home before I realised it was, shockingly, exactly where I’d left it in my bag. I also had one of the most awkward of encounters for quite some time in the street with a friend’s sister that’s probably a hell of a lot more entertaining if I just leave it at that description. Pained smiles were involved.
And I didn’t even get a haircut. How will I ever impress people who have already seen me bleary-eyed and covered in mud at two in the morning now?
*The train quite literally left the station as I wrote that. Weird.