As I check out of the hotel and head to my car, I realise that sometimes I enjoy my life a lot.
I've taken a 24 hour break from visiting my mother - where I'm living under the threat of home cooked food and visits from various family members. The break allows me to check into a nice hotel, eat good food and go out and hit some of the nightclubs of my youth. Neither I nor they are recognisable from those days, but hey, that's progress (or aging, in my case). The fact that the hotel is less than 3 miles from her house is, admittedly, a bit strange but hey, it suits my mood.
Heading up Hurst Street at 3 o'clock this morning, I was happy. I'd had a couple of drinks, a bit of a laugh and an innocent fumble with Dan, a tiler from Kitts Green. Waiting for me at the hotel was a big bed with 300 count sheets and a good breakfast that's all set to be delivered at 9.30. What more does a boy need out of life?
In the hotel lobby my telephone beeps. "Where R U? Did U leave? Call me I don't want 2 go home 2nite. Danx".
I send a reply and get in the lift, thinking 'I must remember to order an extra breakfast'.
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