Trip Start Sep 28, 2011
332Trip End Ongoing
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Thanks to a horrible wine hangover I desperately need water when I open my eyes. Peering through half shut eyelids and smelling my own wood mouth breath, I croak for the fridge key.
"Stuart, Stuart, Stuart", the girl behind the desk shakes her head.
"Yes?" I manage.
"You've been misbehaving haven't you?"
I'm then told off for my antics last night, and informed that I have "been good up until now". Furthermore there is to be no more guitar.
How old am I? Are you my Mum? Have I suddenly been sent back to school? Only my desperate desire for H20 stops me from firing back some cheeky retort, but I'm tempted to write a harshly worded letter in the strongest terms. I'm not really. I just go back to bed with my tail between my legs after a groveling apology and promising it will never happen again.