one for the road

Sunday nights in a restaurant are dangerous. They are dangerous when you work there as you have Monday off and hence have no need to worry about bed times. They are dangerous when you used to work there as your old colleagues have Monday off and hence have no need to worry about bed times but you have to be in the office the following morning.

So this time, we decided to have just one for the road. Just one.

But that one needs to be accompanied with some serious tunes. But as it turned out this last tune turned out to be the start of a slippery slope.

Before we noticed we were rocking and singing to the oldies from 80’s and early 90’s – the songs from our youth. I can only remember Duran Duran from films I have seen later but they were on their way to the top when my friend was in his post hard rock state into the next phase.

Vanilla Ice? Who remembers Vanilla Ice and those horrific clothes and that hair. The hair. Seriously.

By the time we were singing to the Eye of the Tiger we had emptied more than one bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau that had come out the previous Thursday. The atmosphere was getting merrier by the second.

Guns N'Roses. T.Rex.

I had witnessed the first wave of Take That frenzy and been obsessed by NKOTB but managed to escape the Spice Girls mania, by a millimetre. My friend, two years younger than I, had been less lucky and was now telling us stories about how she, when they pretended to be the bunch of garnishes, was always Posh Spice. Just because of her hair. We didn’t believe her.

It was 2AM and I was supposed to get up at 5.30 in order to make the train that would take me across the canal and back into the city.

Just one for the road. Just one.

I now can’t recall what was the final tune. Maybe Elton John. No, couldn’t have been. Michael Jackson Maybe.

Whilst the others decided that a one last drink at the bar around the corner would be in order I made my way back to bed. Just to be rudely awaken by the alarm two hours later.

I velibed across the sleeping city and absorbed its charm to ensure it would take me through to my next visit.

I made my train with 1min to spare. Just enough.

But looking at the snoring passengers around me I figured that I was not the only one who had enjoyed that one last roata, only few hours earlier.