So – I saw the All Blacks clinch Grand Slam ’08. Managed to be rather hungover – if I recall correctly, I had a shut-in at the pub I’ve been trialling as a possible new local. Managed to get up, had a beer at the pub on the way to the station – and got to Waterloo. Figured out how to get on a train to Twickenham – and off I went. Got to Twickenham – and was immediately impressed. Couldn’t even see the stadium yet – but throngs of people, and plenty of stalls trying to sell food, supporters gear, etc – all the normal stuff. Got to the stadium – and discovered my ticket WASN’T a forgery. Huzzah. (I nearly used Hoorah, but I like ‘Huzzah’ so much better.) Got into the stadium – and discovered I’d timed it perfectly. Just got to my seat, in time for the teams to come out. Watched the haka – but couldn’t hear anything. 80,000 english singing Sweet Chariot is rather impressive. And, like the Welsh response to the haka – I think fair enough. The Welsh response was awesome, I thought. Sweet Chariot – well, it’s acceptable. And you have to let the English have something. 80,000 of them knew damned well they were about to get beaten – but they sung and they sung, in their tone-deaf voices. It made me really look forward to going to a game in Wales.
And so – I watched the game. Decent game, I guess. But awesome stadium. Not much character, or anything like that – bit big. BIG. Lots of people. Afterwards – I went down and shook Piri’s hand. “Well done mate. Good job.” Then – off to drink some beer, and find my way home. Very very tired. All in all, a good day.
And since then – haven’t really done anything. In fact, can’t think of a single thing. Work, work, work. Did absolutely nothing this last weekend – which was rather nice. Except I drank a helluva lot of yerba mate – and on Saturday night I was still awake at 2am without feeling at all tired. Oh – and Friday night, had a few drinks after work. Was feeling sickly – so just stopped in for one or two. With my drunk arsetralian workmate calling me nasty names for trying to leave. Less than an hour later, he stumbles out the door unable to drink any more. And I end up talking to another arsetralian chap until the bar staff kick us out. Although the bar staff did buy me my last drink – when we were the last ones in the bar. Maybe they’d already rung up the till. Also that night – a reasonably attractive lady, out of nowhere, asked me to join her at her table. We chit-chatted, and then she went home. At which point I realised I am going to be single forever. Confirmed this by running into a girl at the market who’d started chatting with me a month or two ago. Again – too lazy to actually follow up on obvious interest. I am truly awful at being a single man about town. Oh well. Maybe I can blossom into the nerd I should be. Start playing dungeons and dragons, or whatever the kids are into nowadays. (Any comments saying “like you don’t know… ha!” will be purged)
And plans for jeebersmas & little Nicky Osborne’s birthday in Espana don’t look promising. Ben doesn’t sound keen to spend several thousand dollars to come over. And although I’d probably be willing to spend a measly one thousand, I haven’t done anything about time off work – and it’s probably getting too late. Another month of rain and cold in Londres, I guess.