Viper Squad Ten

[ Saturday, October 02, 2004 ]

Starbuck [21:17] Comments: 0 []

Saturday night takes an upturn, & out comes the Jacobs Creek...

I've been hiding up in my room for the last hundred minutes. Starbucketta had been scheduled to go out on an unavoidable "commiseratory evening" for a colleagues who has been given the boot, and they had arranged to meet up briefly at our place prior to going out on the town. I think they lost track of the "briefly" part.

Now I've not been in the most sociable of moods today, at least not when it comes to loud giggly strangers. I've not been feeling at my sharpest; it may help you to understand my condition if I reveal that I couldn't find my trousers when I woke up at the in-laws-to-be's (empty) house - they turned out to be outside, damp (with rain), and I had no memory of why...

So when it came to the Missus' guests tonight, I quickly made my excuses and headed upstairs. I must at this point describe our little house - its very lacking in space. Or doors (in fact there is only one proper internal door - the toilet door). Next to the toilet there is the coat cupboard (where my computer resides) leading onto our lounge, attached to which is the kitchen... oh, sod it, I'll knock up a quick floor plan in Paint for you (not to scale - if it was, the bed would be five times wider than it is long):

So basically there is nothing solid between the bed upstairs and the lounge area downstairs, and very little air for that matter. If you breathe downstairs it could be heard from the bedroom.

Now anyone of the male extraction who is reading this will understand my plight. I was far enough away for them to forget that I was there, but close enough that I couldn't escape from a single word. Endless girly chatter of that exquisitely cringeworthy nature as most practiced by thirty- and forty-something females. After thirty minutes of chatter about who people fancy I was pulling my already-thinning hair out. Robbie Williams, fair enough. But John Nettles? And Bad Gangster Andy from Eastenders?! The mind boggles!

Luckily I remembered that the Sony Walkman had been invented some years back, and managed to escape into Nine Inch Nails' Broken several times over (perfect violent mind-music for my circumstances, though slightly annoying with 92 three second slots of silence hiding the "secret" tracks at the end). So I lay there, selfishly and sadly seething, quietly hitting quiet things for release from my stupidity (tip: rib-cage and forehead are fairly quiet).

But as I started out, YES, I AM FREE! Saturday night takes an upturn. And I'm wasting my time telling you about it. Worst of all, I've missed One Night With Barry Manilow on BBC1...

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