Because I had a rather late night on Saturday I was in a very delicate state when I woke up at 9am on Sunday. I had foolishly agreed to go and watch the London Marathon with someone, so after about three hours of sleep I had to drag myself out of bed and make myself look a little bit presentable.
I didn’t look that bad actually; I was sporting a purple t-shirt, a black shirt that had the buttons open, a black pair of jeans and my Converse trainers. With my patented black flat cap I was looking smart.
How was I know that that bastard God would turn the heat up and make me sweat buckets for the rest of the day?
Before I left the house my dad wanted to ask me about buy gold online, I’m guessing his obsession with buying gold has resurfaced again. I didn’t have the patience to deal with him so said I’d sort it when I got back and quickly left.
I was due to meet Francesca at Bank station at 11am (she said about 11ish) being the kind of person who likes to be on time I actually turned up at 10:45am. Then I realised we had a problem. She did not tell me where we were supposed to meet.
Do I meet her at the barriers? Do I meet her outside the station entrance? If so which entrance? We were scheduled to get the DLR from there to Shadwell so was she coming on the Northern line? Should I meet her on the platform?
After 45 minutes of me running up and down the escalators I decided to get the DLR and make my way to Shadwell and wait there for her. As the train came out of the tunnel she phoned me. She had gotten off at Monument station and thought that was Bank station.
We arranged to meet at Shadwell station. I had time to get off at Shadwell, go to Watney Market, find a pub there, use their toilet, buy a drink from the shop, walk back to the station and then five minutes later she came into view.
What a typical woman!
I wasn’t expecting much, how much fun could you have watching people run in the baking heat? A lot of fun is the surprising answer. The weather was lovely, the people were having a good time and some of the costumes the runners had were awesome. I saw a man running the entire race carrying a washing machine on his back.
The best moment was seeing Zampa the Lion, the Millwall mascot, running. I had to resist the urge to yell encouragement at him because I’m too cool and hip for that kind of thing. Instead I stood and watched as everyone else showed how uncool they were by yelling to their family and friends as they rushed past.
We headed to Angel to find a pub that would show the Arsenal/Liverpool game. We settled on the Slug & Lettuce because they also served food. I had a chicken burger and chips for 8.95, I could have bought three for 7.50 from my local chicken shop …. And they would have tasted a hell of a lot better. But a pint of Bombardier helped me wash down the high price.
I fell asleep during the game, does that show just how shit the game was?