Liverpool Liquid Lunch

2006-06-27, 8:38 p.m.
What I did at the weekend.

Went to Liverpool, BF was working, met Smash for lunch, did some shopping, came home.

That�s about it really. Anyway, today I bought some cod in Lidl�s and was cooking it for tea when�.

Wha?

Yeh. Yeh I did. Yeh. Lunch with Smash, yeh. Anyway the cod�

Oh, you don�t want to hear about THAT! No, surely not? Oh, alriiiiiight�.but I�m only giving you the edited highlights.

Drove up to Liverpool on Friday night after work. BF had an in-store demo day at one of the music shops there and as we haven�t been anywhere for a while and I cant remember if Ive ever been to Liverpool before, I thought Id go too and see the sights etc. Of course, the chance of maybe meeting up with Smash was just too good an opportunity to miss even tho I�ll admit to being a bit nervous about the whole thing. No matter how many times I describe4d it to myself, it still came out as ��.travelled 300 miles to meet a man she met on the internet. Stepfordtart, middle-aged divorcee mother of two, hasn�t been seen since Saturday lunchtime. Today at a press conference her BF tearfully appealed for her to get in touch�.� Blah blah blah

Some random facts abut driving to Liverpool.

Didcot power station looks cool. I suspect that it isn�t, really.
Outside Warwick there�s a tourist information sign pointing the way to �Historic Warwick� Me and BF remarked on how fortuitous this rhyming couplet was and pondered on other tourist information signs of the same ilk � �Boring Goring�, �Dull Hull� etc. Feel free to add your own. (Overseas listeners may care to come up with something to rhyme with Punxatawnee)
If you don�t update your SatNav map thingy, when you go on the M6 Toll it doesn�t show up on the screen, you just kind of leave the road and head out across open countryside. It actually feels a little bit like you may have taken off �Chitty Chitty Bang Bang �style. I even looked out of the window to see if we had left the ground. We hadn�t. Volvo Estate�s aren�t renowned for their aerodynamic properties.

Got to the hotel around 9 and started drinking. Went to a bar and drank some more. BF left me alone in the booth for, like, five seconds and I got chatted up by two guys who had been giving me the eye. Id figured they must�ve been admiring my Spiderman t-shirt but nope, they were hitting on me. I was so embarrassed, I actually felt myself blush. When BF came back from the bar he joined the three of us (!) and started talking about the football and stuff like that, which kind of took the heat off me a bit. The two guys left shortly after. While I was in the loo. Maybe they didn�t want to hear BFs theories on the flat back four formation and how a sweeper system might be more advantageous to the non-Latin teams in the world cup. Who knows?

As we left the bar and strolled across the road, I noticed that the tarmac had become much more uneven, in places dipping away wildly, causing me to stumble, weave about and generally stagger. Im sure it was fine when we went in the bar, but it sure was wobbly coming out. Back at the hotel, I perched seductively on the edge of the bed�and fell asleep. Im told that BF crashed about for a bit, ate a Twix, had a cigarette and eventually joined me.

Next morning, up at the crack of eight, enormous hangover cure fried breakfast then out into town. Got to the store and offloaded all the guitars and other crud then it was off for a little light retail before lunch. Within twenty minutes I�d bought six pairs of shoes and two belts. �29!!!! ($40?) LIVERPOOL IS CHEAP! Had t go back to the hotel to offload some purchases before beginning round two. Time was ticking on and Id arranged to meet Smash outside the station so I beetled back into town and started hanging about looking furtive. Id only seen one or two pictures of him so I wasn�t particularly convinced that I would notice him first off. Then a throng of people came out of the station and there he was! I think. Anyway, there was a bloke who was at least eight feet taller than everyone else in the whole of Liverpool. And he was wearing a leather jacket. I tried to catch his eye but he was either ignoring me or didn�t see me at first � he ducked into Sainsbury�s before I could accost him. I sent a quick text �Are you in Sainsbury�s?� and when I got a text back that said �No. that�s my twin� I kinda knew Id got my man. I was laughing out loud like a crazy person while reading the text, and when I looked up, Smash was waving from Sainsbury�s window.

Quick �Hi, how are you� type thing then off to the jolly old Wethersp00ns.

Then we got drunk.

Really drunk.

Smash is a big fella. He drinks pints of Wife Beater Stell@. I am quite a smallish girl. I was matching him with neat scotch. Big ones. Ive racked my brains trying to think of the last time I got plastered at lunchtime. I think it was when I was doing my O Levels and me and some of the other girls from my convent school (Yes, really), sat in the Abbey ground with a big bottle of cider.

BF joined us for a wee while at first and despite being a big fat gooseberry, did obligingly take this photo for posterity:
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Then he went back to the store and we carried on drinking. Then we drank some more. We were supposed to be having lunch but didn�t actually get around to that bit for quite some time. As you know, I am a fan of beautifully cooked fine food, as is my good friend (and ex chef) Mr Smash. We had chips and garlic bread. It soaked up a teeeeny bit of the alcohol. So we drank a bit more just in case.

Stuff we did:
Drank (both)
Smoked (Both! Im sooo ashamed � and I haven�t had one since, I promise!)
Burped (Smash only)
Laughed (Both. Lots)
Bickered, swore, teased, faked indignation (both)
Went very red in the face (me)

When BF came back a couple of hours later to see how we were getting on and to check I hadn�t been murdered yet, we also did:
Taking the piss out of sober BF (both)
Try to get a pic of BF and Smash squaring up to each other (didnt come out properly, they let the pissed bird take it!)
Get a pic of Smash and BF being friends

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And get a pic of all three of us (courtesy of nice lady at the next table)

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Sadly lunchtime was pretty much over by then as it was about four thirty and I kinda felt bad about having a good time while BF was working so Smash and I went back to the store and sat on the sofa to listen to BF play for a bit. We weren�t the most attentive audience, and there was some nudging, muffling of giggles and snorting going on. Then once we�d made a complete nuisance of ourselves, Smash went off to get his train and I tried to carry on with my shopping expedition. I failed horribly. Despite finding a beautiful pair of embroidered jeans for only �7, I knew in my heart-of-hearts I was way waaaay too pissed to be able to go in a changing cubicle, remove my boots and the jeans I was wearing and try on the lovely new jeans. If there is any way I could have done this without at some point having to stand on one leg, in my knickers, separated from the outside world by only a curtain, I would most definitely have tried.

Despite his protestations to the contrary, I suspect that BF was a little bit miffed that I was so drunk. I think he was expecting me to drive the car back to the hotel when he finished working. I can say, without fear of contradiction, that I could not have driven a slippery stick up a dogs arse.

Sobered up enough to go for a curry when we got back to the hotel, BF drinking at breakneck speed to catch up with me. Me sipping diet coke. Back in the hotel bar watching the football, BF still drinking, me sobering up a bit more. Went upstairs. BF collapsed into a coma. I was wide awake. Fuckit.

More soon

s
x

PS The cod? Ooh, it was lovely. I baked it with some red pesto.

PPS Smash is much nicer in real life




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