Gangsta Pubing

Yesterday was Friday night and an empty house! All my friends seemed to be snuggled up in bed and I started to get a bit restless, longing for some company and change of scenery. And so I decided to do the one brave thing: Head out to the local on a Friday night! I ordered my Whiskey and Coke and sat down by the fireplace to regain some warmth from being sat in our lounge without slippers for too long. I cannot recall one bad memory from fires, there's something about them that makes me feel at peace, brings out memories and makes me dream about the future. And so I enjoyed the fire until my boots felt like melting, and I started to make a tour around the pub.

The main visitors to the pub were black/caribbean men, and so I felt slightly out of place, but on the other hand it was MY local, so I had all right to be there. In my head I was thinking I was more gangsta than any of them, but then they all seemed quite friendly, the odd strong smell of weed, especially around the Jamaicans.

After the fire I made a move toward the pool table where I caused immediate distraction. A young chap called Abz was so busy chatting me up his opponent had plenty of time to move all the balls around on the table without him noticing. I ended up playing a few games with them, and I discovered that my pool skills have surely gone embarrassingly rusty. I reckon I should try and pop into the pub more often to get some more practice.

When my sister comes next week I should take her to Lebeqs Tavern, my local!

All Love

Disco Dance Rescue Patrol

Today has been an interesting day. Had Immediate Life Support (ILS) training at work, and apparently I'm brilliant at doing chest compressions. If anyone wonders, they should be done in the same rhythm as Lady Gaga's Poker Face, so better bring the i-pod to the next resuscitation! Good fun though, trying to bring the dummie back to life, and at the end of the day I was warm and sweaty from all the Gaga compressions and my brain was slightly dysfunctional from all ABCDE assessments and post-resuss arm dances. Tired during the last defibrillation my "stand clear" turned into a "back off". Whatever works...

I spoilt myself to a bus ticket today, and on my way home the window I was sat by suddenly cracked. No-one saw what happened, if someone threw something at the bus or if there was some sort of weakness from before, but I decided to move seat before I was covered by shattered glass. Another passenger made the clever statement that someone probably doesn't like me. I wonder if it was my looks that shattered the glass, that's always a possibility. Anyway, the bus driver decided driving wasn't safe and we all had to get out and wait for another bus. I was kind of disappointed, I was looking forward to some action.

That's Bristol life for today!

All Love