Daughter #1 literally yelped with excitement after she booked a table this weekend at one of our fine city’s wonderful bars - and plans to drink the place dry.
I hope everyone “drinks responsibly” when they’re out on Saturday, but then I hoped one day I’d play alongside Eric Cantona for Manchester United. Both are about as likely as Boris Johnson revealing to a stunned nation that he used to be a woman.
But judging by the bottle-heavy recycling bins we see outside your houses when walking the dog up to Williamson Park, a single measure in a G&T just won’t hit the spot any more.
Boy, can we put it away these days. Especially now the football’s back and is on TV more than Coronation Street, Emmerdale and EastEnders combined.
It’s teatime on Wednesday, July 1, so it must be Preston North End v Derby County in the Championship, played out in a ghostly stadium with crowd noise pumped in by the TV companies to drown out the players screaming ****, **** and **** every five seconds.
Those of us on furlough could be forgiven for not keeping track of when the weekend starts and ends. “Is it Thursday today, I’m not sure?” Happy hour is whenever you say it is and the bar only shuts when the booze runs out. “Loose Women’s on in a minute, fancy a drink?” It’s like being on holiday when a couple of bottles of wine with lunch seems like the most natural thing in the world on day two.
Is this what retirement feels like, bumbling around from one day to the next with no real reason to get out of bed in a morning? Bring it on! If you’re going out on Saturday for the first time since March, here’s a great tip for avoiding a life-threatening hangover on Sunday that’ll drag on until Monday, possibly Tuesday at your age. Don’t drink so much.
And if the person you wake up next to on Sunday lunchtime is as surprised as you are, why not post a selfie on Instagram for posterity?
Anyway, enjoy the weekend, but maybe not like you’ve just got out of prison.