A Day at the Races

So, yesterday we had the London legs of our stag & hen shenanigans. I'll leave Simmi to give you details of what happened on the hen night, but from what I can gather, it was a fairly eventful evening.

For my part, I met up with a gang of lads at the George pub on Borough High Street and we headed off down to Lingfield Park to see the gee-gees.

It was a good day, with some of us having a few wins, especially Pete Bond, who came away a good £600-worth of the bookie's money. Well done Pete!

After the last race, we headed back to New Cross and the charms of the Marquis and the Amersham awaited. I should mention the sterling work of 'Evil' Pete Barrow, who snuck off to an off-licence while we waited for a train at Lingfield and returned just as the train was pulling in with a box laden with beer, cider and crisps (the only solids that I ingested during the whole episode). Marvellous stuff.

Anyway, the imbibery continued into the early hours and a few more lads met up with us there. It was in the Amersham at some time after 1am that I suddenly realised I'd had more than enough and had to go home. Like, now! So I sloped off without telling the lads, hopped in a cab and was comatose in my armchair when Simmi got home at about 2.30am. What a wuss, as Smiffy so aptly texted me.

You may rest assured that much drink was taken, and that today has been a write-off for us both.

In more sensible news, the men's shirts were delivered yesterday and they look great. So that's another thing crossed off the list.