Last night I met Simon in town. Watkins was unable to come. I think the government froze his bank account following the July bombings, or so I have been told. Anyway, his parents have all his money, and they’re in another country.
Simon and I went to Nandos. We hadn’t been there in a while, so thought it was apt that we pay the Portuguese staff another visit. After eating what was an unusually greasy piece of PeriPeri chicken, we went downstairs to TGI Fridays as Simon wanted a cocktail. I sat at the bar with my bottle of Magners, while Simon consumed his 3-drinks-in-1 combo. We left shortly afterwards, and I stole a balloon – they’ll all be deflated by morning, and the drinks were vastly overpriced, so I think my theft was justified.
On the way home, we popped into Sainsbury’s Local. The visit reminded me as to why I rarely venture into Bath city centre on a Saturday night. Some old, piss-soaked drunkard was pacing up and down the aisles, while an irritable chap from a nearby takeaway restaurant caused me some trouble at the checkout queue.
Simon, the balloon and I quickly escaped to my flat where we watched Hot Fuzz on DVD. Good times.
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