Stayin' Alive
Trip Start
May 27, 2010
1
95
97
Trip End
Aug 31, 2011
Birmingham, England, United Kingdom
Monday, April 30, 2012
I said to Phil early on in the week that if the rain continued I was content to spend the weekend in the pub. On Friday I got home from work and was taken out to a lovely Italian dinner at a local restaurant we've been wanting to try out for some time. It was really nice and I ate so much that I felt sick by the time we got home again. I'd had a pasta starter but then had a massive plate of veal that reminded me of my first ever trip to Italy in 1997 (I want to write 2007, because 1997 seems like such a long time ago!). That first trip was where I formed a lasting friendship with Kellie, who "certainly calls a spade a spade" and whose cigarette smoke was affecting the old lady's throat! It always remains a trip that I reflect on with happiness, remembering the fun times and silly things we got up to. And it's nights like Friday night at an Italian restaurant that bring those sort of memories to the forefront of my mind.
Waking fresh on Saturday morning, Phil dropped me at the hairdressers so I could get my hair some much needed love. As usual it was interesting listening to the gossiping of the clients and workers, especially when one of their regular old ducks came in to make an appointment and informed everyone in the salon that her cat had leukemia and she'd just been to the vet to get some more drugs for it. The young apprentice that washed my hair made sure she washed it properly, spending a very long time on each process and ensuring that I walked away with a sore neck. The overall experience resulted in a nice new head of hair, and I went and got the bus to meet Phil at the pub to fulfil my word that I would spend the day in the pub if the weather was still shit. And it was still shit, windy and rainy - there was no point attempting to do anything else that day.
We started at the British Oak. Not the prettiest of pubs, but it was close to home and made an easy starting point. We had a couple of pints and tried to keep warm by the fire and watched one of the local drunks add wood to the fire despite the sign next to it saying "do not touch the fire". She was a rebel. I had a massive pizza and had to offer the rest to other patrons so it didn't go to waste, and then we went over to the Patrick Kavanagh to watch the Villa play. When we got there though, we realised they weren't showing the Villa match, and so our interest waned. My phone battery had died, and I asked Phil if there was an app that would let him share his battery with me so my phone could come back to life. He found it very amusing when I told him I was serious, and explained that there is no other way to charge your phone battery than by plugging it into the wall (or the computer). I asserted that I had been sitting with bleach on my head earlier that morning and that it must've seeped into my brain and done some damage.
We got a bus up to The Station in Kings Heath and had a few drinks there, chatting to some locals that Phil knows and who I now know after running into them a couple of times there before. Phil started drinking the Addlestones and I knew that this was only going to end one way: him, asleep, at the Hares & Hounds. About an hour later, that's just what transpired, and I was left standing at the bar trying to prize his eyes open before eventually giving up and deciding that we should go home. Before doing so though, I posted a photo of the sleeping beauty on his own Facebook wall and wrote some other comments that he wouldn't realise were there until the morning.
Sunday called for a sleep in, McDonalds, and a bit more sleeping in. It was still raining so it wasn't a bad day to spend under the doona. But before I knew it the weekend was over again and I was faced with another week of work.
I trudged to the office on Monday, getting soaked by yet more torrential rain, but made it through the day and home in one piece. A couple of hours later, however, I wondered how I had escaped serious injury when I was mowed down by Phil's dad. We were all going to the pub to watch the Manchester derby, and on the way Phil and I had to get out to get some cash from the ATM. Phil got out one side of the car, I got out the other. But before I had completely exited the car, Phil's dad planted his foot and went to drive off, hurtling me to the ground, my life flashing before my eyes. (OK, it wasn't really that extreme haha!) I remember feeling rubber and my ankles both being a bit squashed, but I got back into the car in one piece, assessing the damage and pinching myself to make sure I was still alive. Alas I was still alive, albeit in a state of shock, and I escaped with just a bit of bruising. Thankfully we were already headed to the pub - if we were going somewhere else, I think we would've needed to make a detour so I could get something to calm my nerves! John was beating himself up a bit. I just told him if he really didn't like me he could've just said so, rather than trying to run me over!
