Luton: 22nd October 2010I managed to persuade the boss to let me out an hour early on Friday afternoon in the hopes of beating the usual congestion on the M25. After checking with all the online traffic sites that I could, I decided to, at least in part, take the scenic route from leafy Essex to the Bedfordshire garden spot known at Luton.
Jumping off the M25 about halfway I came up through the back-roads via Wheathamsted [isn"t that a great name?] arriving at the Days Hotel around 5.45 if I recall correctly. Easy parking next door and no trouble checking in.
After all the kerfuffle that had gone on with rooms being "flooded" or whatever it was a relief to be assured of a relatively decent place to lay my head. Not surprisingly, as I walked into reception, I"m greeted by the sight of the usual APAT rowdies in"t bar...where else?
After a quick wash and brush-up, I was downstairs necking my first, second and third beers of the day.
Around 7.30 or so, I wandered over to the G to meet up with the Luton crowd who had put on a private game and kindly let me play (they must have seen the value there) while the others headed off to downtown Luton for the usual frivolities.
The game got under way after a slight change in plan. It would be dealer-dealt (thank you very much) but a 7500 F/O rather than a 3000 D/C. Fair dos...all good there.
My first two hands were monsters (AK & KK I think...it starts to get hazy for reasons that will become obvious) and pre-flop raises and c-bets won me a few chips early on.
This was not to last. Forty-five minutes in and I once again get KK in MP and 3-bet an EP raiser who flatted. A queen high board saw us get it all in on the flop and he rolls over the (by now) obvious AA. No suck-out for me and I"m toast.
C"est le poker as they say at the Aviation Club.
Well...what to do with the rest of the evening? I think you know the answer to that question...come on, you can work it out.
That"s right...I went back to the hotel. OK, I"m kidding, I wandered off to find the usual reprobates at the White House, the Wetherspoons in the centre of Luton where they had, apparently, gathered.
I walk up to the entrance and there"s a security guard standing there who make a gesture towards me...I have no idea what he wants but I assume it"s a dress code check or summat..happens..if they turn me away, I can live with it. Nope, he just wants to stamp the back of my hand the the old UV ink....God that takes me back more years than I care to remember and probably more than most APATers have been around.
Anyway, apparently they don"t care what I"m wearing (heh) and I find the others slinging them back by the bucketful. Soon I"m necking them back too. However, it"s not long before Tighty announces that we"re off to the Chicago Rock Cafe...whatever the hell that is...but we dutifully make our way there.
At least it"s closer to the hotel than the Westerspoons but, then again, it"s uphill. Never a good thing.
From then on, it"s something of a vague, blurry series of images in the back of my brain. X-Factor contests, blue drinks, orange drinks in jugs, drinks in bottles etc. etc. You get the picture.
At some point, I realised my feet were bl**dy killing me from standing around all night (no dancing, Praise Be) and I decide to take a pew.
FATAL.
Next thing I know, I"m pretty sure I"ve dozed off and Ger Jr is leaning over me asking if I"m alright. I probably mumbled something incoherent but assuring.
Regardless, I was apparently suitably
compos mentis to decide that it was time to call it a morning and started the weary climb up the rest of the hill to the Days Hotel. At this point, the burning plates of meat at the end of my legs decided to remind me of their existence. Every frakkin" step is agony. Take it from me...never get old and fat!
I stop at several points along the enormity of the distance I had to cover (it must have been at least half a mile) to give my barking dogs a rest and during one of these I make my final tactical error of the night.
Yep...a kebab!
I carry it back to my hotel and finally make it into my room and consume this delicious morsel before throwing myself into the joys of slumber.
Well, I say throw but, to be truthful, it was more like "place carefully" as the single bed I was occupying was on wheels and the slightest movement would have it careening around the room. It was like kipping on a skateboard.
well, I live and never learn. Saturday would be another day.
