Driving home

For the first time in about 150 years flick and I went out on a Saturday night and I didn't have to do the driving. Some friends picked us up, and after a super meal at a Chinese restaurant, took us back home again.
I was able to drink as much as I wanted, but to be honest, I can't be arsed any more to drink like I did in my youth, so I was still able to just about safely operate a camera. Our driver, who has been on the wagon for some time drove as though he was pissed - but I'm told that was normal. On the two mile journey home we were hooted four times, mainly for cutting people up. The fourth time was somebody hooting to their mates, so I think that doesn't count.

Luckily I was squiffy enough not to care.