It’s Friday the 13th, so I best not bike today either and anyway I’m meeting L and some friends straight from work in Nottingham.
If I drive I could probably be there for about 5.45 but then I can’t drink. If I bus, then I’ll be at the mercy of Trent Barton and it could be anytime between six and midnight when I get there. I risk the bus. The roads are still quiet, so it shouldn't be too bad. Although quiet roads are a mixed blessing, sometimes I can catch the 5.20 bus when its late but even that requires a sprint from work. Quiet roads will probably just mean it’ll be on time or early.
As it turns out, I manage to hotfoot it from work and leap onto the 5.20 just as they’re closing the doors. We meet in the Gooseberry Bush, which is packed, so obviously everybody likes a post work drink. We reckon it’s only about our third time ever. We must improve that statistic. The nice Milestone ale called Sup-porter, which is obviously nice and dark, gets my support.
We linger for a while after our friends have gone despite the fact we’re racing the next day. It's only Paws, L says. So it doesn’t sound like she’s taking it seriously but then she isn’t running with MD, like I am. Still, we’re not out late. We’re home to my team mate and Doggo for around 8.30.
(Friday 13th April)