De Campo estimates we drank a keg of Stella last night at The Empress. I’m not surprised. I was very parched and given what work had mentally done to me the last three days I probably seemed anxious to tie one on.
I must say the quality of the beer coming out the tap was very good.
The quality of the music coming out of the p.a. was even better. With Mia on piano, New Estate rocked the house. Tugboat were musically tighter than a jam jar and art school kids World Ends Press played some of the neatest postpunk I have heard since the whole tedious revival started.
I was keen to follow the party to The Lair (Marc and Toby’s) afterwards, but the anti-nausea pills De Campo was taking had made her nauseous, so I focussed on hailing a cab, getting home and ordering a pizza.
Intersection Café at 1.30am was my only choice and their pizza is pretty gross, but I’ve ate hamburgers prepared by street vendors in Mexico, who look after dogs infested with ticks the size of mobile phones. I could handle this.
The order was placed despite it requiring more motor skills than I had access to. De Campo was in bed by then so I had no one to help me find my wallet which I had suddenly misplaced and couldn’t find anywhere. I called the cab company and then traced my steps outside. The pizza would be delivered any moment and I wouldn’t have any money to give him. I eventually found the wallet under a couple pizza brochures on the kitchen bench. Then there was a knock at the door.
I ate pizza and watched some of The Corporation, which isn’t interesting in the slightest. It was stupid and I hated it.
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