#403232 - I could see plans of an evening returning, if only a couple of hours that I might not have to spend dining with 40-something blokes who were long-gone from their glory days, trying to squeeze the last couple of euros from their wallets. Holy shit. Rolling out of bed, I grasped at my trousers, cast aside at the end of the bed - vaguely I remembered pushing them off, climbing on top of Ali - Shit Dave, stop, just move - still slightly damp from our midnight adventures, but I pulled them on anyway, tripping over myself, before I caught sight of the scrawled note on the pillow.
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