When I was going to college I had a close friend who thought it would be nice to open a bar, and it should be called “The Library”. If anyone was asking you could always say you were going to the library.
Well, apparently someone else from a different continent had a very similar idea. Their drinking establishment was open on Sunday morning and it was called “the church”. I guess I was young and irreverent as I had been there a few times with some of the guys from work. You cannot call it a bar as it was a large room that reminded me of a gymnasium from school. At one end was a stage and at the other end was a series of long tables where you could buy three packs of beer.
On this particular day I can only hope my “friends” were testing that I indeed met a good women. My girlfriend was visiting us in London and my “friends” took me to the church early in the morning and we keep it up all day. I guess having a few beers in the morning on an empty stomach must have led to incapacitated thinking. We had something to eat and then went to the park, took a nap and then went out and started hitting the pubs with gusto.
By this time, I had not given all that much thought to my girlfriend. I must have had a lot of stamina as we kept going until about midnight. We ended up at Mike’s place and they wanted to keep going. I actually was starting to run out of steam and Mike suggested that I looked pretty bad and should crash on the couch.
It was about this time I remembered my girlfriend and said I needed to go home. So Mike and his girlfriend gave me a beer and a bag of potato chips. It was late and I was about a couple of miles from home, but I trudged on. I did make it but it was quite late.
Was my girlfriend impressed? No, just relieved. All she knew was that I was going out for a pint with the guys in the morning and no word from me and even she knew that the pubs closed at 11pm.