I WENT all the way to the States and all I came back with was this cold. Well, actually that's not quite true. There were also three pairs of jeans, numerous t-shirts, a toy baseball bat and ball for the Vin Monster and Big Boy, a Louis Vuitton handbag for the fat kid (which cost a small fortune but should shut her up for a few weeks), a jean jacket, two red sox caps, two van Heusen workshirts and a pair of silk ties. Oh yeh, and a new bag so that I could fit everything in.
We arrived back at Heathrow on Friday night and spent it at the Sheraton Skyline, although being very careful to avoid the rip-off Italian restaurant situated there (Al Dente's, I think I mentioned it earlier).
Standing outside having a smoke I noticed some tell-tale Ooh-Aar accents and when one of the blokes talking in this homely manner turned and asked me where I was from he was pretty shocked by the reply. "Get outta town!" he exploded. "We're from Brislington."
Turns out the blokes, this one doing a passable impression of a (using his words) "Fat Vinny Jones, were flying out to New Orleans the next day. They had originally planned the trip four years earlier for Fat Vinny's 40th birthday only for it to be cancelled because of Hurricane Catrina. Didn't have the heart to tell them that Ike was kicking up a storm in the Southern States as we were speaking.
Still, they didn't seem to mind. They were on a big piss-up mission, so I told them that New Orleans was the place for Bloody Mary's. They asked me what I was doing the next day but I thought it strategic not to tell them of my impending visit to see the Gas play Walsall, as I had a sneaky inkling they were sh**heads.
Back to mediocre sport, for me. The Gas were terrible, losing 3-1 to Walsall. So much for our new signings and the decision to change the wedding date because it clashed with the League One Play Off finals. Hah!
Went out on the razz with Wren on Saturday night in Clifton to finish off the hols, and ended up sampling a pretty good Bloody Mary in the Alma Tavern just around the corner from her flat. After copious amounts of San Miguels (Wren was on the large glasses of vino) we staggered home pretty merrily I can tell you.
Bastards! How best to finish off one of the best Holidays you have ever had? Come back to Britain, leave your car parked on a normal street and find some twat has levered the top of the door open, causing untold damage, in the search for goodies to sell to feed his or her drug habit.
But what a result, too. Said stupid thief got the door open and found my car stereo case, unaware that the car stereo was sitting there alone in the glove compartment. Thinking he had his ill gotten gains he made off into the night with the case leaving not only the stereo but around 100 CDs under the passenger seat. Don't you just love the lack of intelligence shown by your average car thief these days.
A day before I return to the grind and the cold is now coming on strong, being kept at bay by copious amounts of Beecham's flu plus. On Monday met up with the Fugitive and Smashy, who managed to bring me down to earth with a bang with their stories of misery from "the hub".
Ah, some things never change.