Posted by: Vicky V | April 30, 2009

Red, red wine

Marcus and I are back on speaking terms after Sunday’s set-to. The atmosphere is still hazy but that could be just as much to do with four nights drinking the bar dry at the Pheasant & Tramp as any unspoken words of mutual annoyance.

Suze has been an outstanding drinking companion this week; the epitome of good Samaritan and Mother Theresa with a few Jeremy Paxman eyebrow raises thrown in as I wax lyrical about Marcus’ fruity ways.

Mum called early this morning not to ask after me as any balanced mother might, but to ask after dearest darling Suze. I am 78% sure she did this because she knew it would annoy me and 22% sure she was too distracted by the height of the Munroe’s hedge to enquire after the wellbeing of her first born. Anyway, appallingly enough, I had absolutely no idea how Suze was even though I’d now spent the last four nights in her company. It must be because I’ve been extremely drunk on these nights. You see, Suze and I used to drink glass for glass of the same tipple. This way, we could measure up against the world (if we were over 2 units we could be government stamped binge drinkers together) and against each other (a moment on the lips is a lifetime on the hips. At least we’d both be boompas after 6 pina colada). But then I jettisoned these competitive modes of self measurement (so what if I was a boompa and Suze a twiglet?) so these past few nights I’ve been knocking back three vodka tonics to every one of Suze’s pints.

Suze called this lunchtime and said she couldn’t take a fifth night of sitting in the pub. She suggested we get involved in Slow down London week to combat her beer induced gas and my executively stressed liver and mind. I logged on and saw that it offers a range of activities and advice to try and get city dwellers to chill the hell out like yoga in a bookshop and meditation in a museum. I told Suze I was on board but that we’d better get a move on because it finishes on 4th May.

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