The morning after

Things went well. Very well indeed.

Due to the typical vagaries of the Scottish rail system Davie was held up, so I got in first. Plenty of time for a pint to calm my nerves. Once he arrived, we grabbed a pool table and relaxed with some more drinks while I was repeatedly, resoundingly beaten at pool. Just like old times.

I think I've changed more than he has. He's matured somewhat, getting married and having two kids will do that to you I suppose. Still, he's not matured an awful lot, as evidenced by his tales of drug taking on much the same scale as he and I were the last time we met. For lack of a better adjective, it just seems tacky that he's in his thirties like me, but still runs about popping pills and smoking dope like it was going out of fashion. Maybe I'm just being stuck up?

One of the things that made the night for me was his attitude towards the fact that I've cut contact with my parents. He couldn't have been more supportive of my decision to do so. He may even have less respect for my parents than my girlfriend does, which is saying something. He also filled in some blanks I had regarding my parents' behaviour when I was younger, when things were being swept under the carpet and never spoken of again.

Needless to say, I've got a bit of a hangover this morning, but not as bad as I thought I would be - I've had worse hangovers from a night in the house :)