I woke up the morning after the night before, I’d done the BAC gig and it had gone well, very well. So I had done some of that drinking stuff.
My head hurt, bad.
Then I realised my belly hurt too, bad.
By the time I had crawled out of bed the distant but familiar feelings of being younger hit me. It was the guilty pangs of a one night stand – what had caused this feeling? Well, it certainly wasn’t a one night stand – but then I craned my head to see the incriminating evidence strewn across the floor
What had I done?
The carpet was littered with a dominoes pizza box, some coke, a dippy tub and a garlic bread box
Then the end of the night came back to me, I was drunk and only everso slightly peckish. Sainsbury’s was shut and I knew I had absolutely no food in my flat.
So I opted to sit in the tiny dominoes takeaway place and spend more than a tenner on what would eventually just be a bellyache.
It wouldn’t have been so bad, but after I’d handed over the cash (in credit card form) I saw that it had been designed in a modern open plan “look at us making your food” way, this is a mistake. I want to at least try and pretend that somehow these things are appetising and not see a mini factory with pictures on the wall instructing how many slices of pepperoni keep profits up.
And I had to wait forever.
Then I gorged
Like a dirty pig