A night in the West End is rarely dull and this one did not disappoint possibly due to NN and his rather odd decisions to pace their session drinking Peroni Gran Reserva (6.5%). Having failed to book anywhere for supper (thank you Nigel) they had to settle for a bite to eat at Zizzis...in the basement...with a hen party.
The mind boggles as to how tragic it must be to aspire to a night out at Zizzis as one's last hurrah before the doom and gloom that is matrimony but to find that the only males in sight are those three must really be depressing.
When one of the vaguely non-ugly ones wandered over and complemented him on his shirt there were bemused looks all round, these swiftly turned to outrage when she revealed that she had been dared to go up to the nearest attractive man and complement him on his shirt - outrage from GG (NAG) and Nigel for coming second and third and from our subject for his best feature being his shirt.
Being street and down with the kids they headed off for a rather "urban" nightclub where they rather stuck out like (white) sore thumbs. A quick couple of beers later and the sight of a young lady collapsing to the floor and being rapidly surrounded by a growing pool of red fluid was enough to send them on their way. Suspiciously she collapsed just as GG (NAG) walked past her, we do wonder about that kid.
A taxi ride home from a very illegal taxi should have topped off the night but finding the lovely TCO back at Nigel's the scotch was dragged out for a nightcap, ouch.
A much calmer Sunday with the kids
was the restorative including a splendid (and very long) game of pooh sticks. Having to carry the oldest two home from the park was, however, a killer.
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