As I was still unable to work properly, I was also able to have a few shandies on Thursday night to celebrate a flying visit by long lost Rogers - a true legend. Back in the day (2+ years ago), I spent a lot of weekends out on the town with the boys, before I saw the error of my ways and settled down with K. Friday and Saturday nights usually involved us lot watching a snake-hipped Rogers schmooze his way in to a girl's heart on the dance floor, before he'd kiss and run, the dirty dog.
As he's still a young 'un, he dragged me and Brennan with a few of his mates from Manchester to Digital for Stone Love, and Indie night I used to 'love' back when I was at uni. Alas, I'm not a student anymore. I'm 30. And everyone else in there was clearly a student, or under 22 at least. Although it was great seeing Rogers again, this was pretty much how I felt I looked:
As I'd only started drinking late doors after playing awesomely in a 20-4 win at 5 aside, I was sober enough to realise that I should probably leave the whipper snappers to it. As Brenos is also nearer 30 than 20, he was easily persuaded to join me at Circus for late night cash table action. We played until the wee early hours, leaving at 5:30, and I banked a tiny profit to cover my expenses for the night.