The cafe has closed at 7pm. Everything closes round here early. There are no places to go and write and use my netbook other than blokey pubs.
So, I have had to go to Wetherspoons – I never really go to pubs on my own. I had to prop up the bar, which I hate too, to order some food. I look like some ladette.
Right now I am surrounded by ‘white van men’, and three one-arm-bandits and someone is having a go at one of them. It’s quite unpleasant here but at least nobody smokes here anymore and it closes at midnight but I don’t suppose I will be scribbling till that time. The white van men on the table next to me are talking about being ‘hammered’. (I wonder how many conversations they have with that topic?)
I am glad that I haven’t been chatted up by one of these white van men so far. Maybe it is a good thing I am over 40, it has its benefits:-)
I also look like a saddo, billy no mates here. Oh great!
I haven’t had anything to drink othe than tap water, so there is no chance of me being sick everywhere or dancing on table. I feel quite a rebel drinking tap water:-)
However, I think I will be traumatised when I leave this place tonight:-)