Sometimes, you discover a truth, your brain had erased, for no good reason beyond the fact you were 19 and quite spectacularly drunk...and then..12 years later, you are reminded of it.. you sit dumbfounded.. then laugh.

Lets go back in time... vworp vworp vworp tardis sound effects...


It is New Years Eve 1997, every ones back from Uni, so the old gang have decided to see the new Year in together.. in the heady night spot of Lincoln.. we convened in a pub by the canal (always start near the water - saves falling in) taxis were booked for after midnight at the top of the hill to return us to our respective villages.. Much alcohol was taken on board,and the peculiar battle for my attention from a dear friend ensued.. her mistake had been to invite along the one person whom could hold court with my attention and my affections, causing the rest of the world to cease to exist, so she took the approach of getting so shit faced everyone would be paying attention to her... by 11.30 she was sat vomiting ungraciously under the table.. we were a stones throw from the Cathedral, it was agreed that her parents should be summoned... on the grounds that she was showing us all up - and I'd be able to get a free ride home.. we saw midnight in, she slumped on a bench as the clock chimed out its fateful passing of time bongs.. almost empty by then of her cargo of booze... I mysteriously bleeding down my sleeve.. and the source of all the trouble stood at my side, hooting with laughter with me at how oddly this reunion had turned out...


and there, my memory stops.

What i don't recall is that between 1 and 2 am, I was at home, probably drinking tea with my Mother and sister who'd been out for a meal... and the phone rang.

Uncharacteristically for me at ANY point in my life.. I answered.

I am assured by my mother, who remembers it clearly, because everyone who was in earshot was quite taken aback...that my words ran thus...


'he-llo?'

'who is this?'

'YES.. but WHO is THIS'

'oh *sigh* FUCK OFF'

at which point I apparently held the receiver at arms length and uttered the words 'Mother, dads on the phone, apparently he wants to talk to you'

and then stalked off about the house, mumbling vitriolically about the 'fucking wanker' 'what the fucks does he want, twat'

All these years I have lamented not saying goodbye and not closing a door.

Turns out, that actually.. I slammed the bugger SHUT with some vigour, only I had clear forgotten about it.

My phone manner has improved slightly.. and oddly enough, asides the memory games my mind plays on me.. I no more wish to speak to him now, then evidentally I did then.