I live in a Large Southern City
but sometimes go back to my Large Northern City place of birth. When I do, sometimes a couple of really good friends meet me at the airport or train station, and they are usually carrying large amounts of 3P (powders, pills and puff).

One Saturday lunchtime, I was in a cellar bar in said Northern City, pushing powder up my nose and swallowing pills, and settling in for a real good afternoon.

Later on, we moved on to another bar, where I saw my old boss who I'd not seen for 10 years or so, having a drink with some buddies. Now for some reason unknown, I thought it would be a great time to go and catch up. I thought I was holding myself together as we chatted (although my mate said my eyes kept rolling into the back of my head).

Then to finish it off, I inquired about the health of a friend. My old boss told me that she was dead. I said I was sorry to hear that, when he said.. "you went to her funeral".

At that, I made my excuses and left.

I think back to that day and my toes curl in my shoes, and I feel tense in the pit of my stomach. Why oh why did I have to go and say anything, when I could quite easily sneeked out and got mashed with good company?
( Piper Alpha is being a grumpy northerm bastard on:, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 9:55, Reply)