Nothing at the YP. At 8 John and I go to the Emmotts where we sit with Laura, who is unusually cheerful and she manages to speak to both John and myself. Keith comes at 8.30, and we talk about films until Chris finally decides to walk in at about 9 o'clock.
Philip Cartwright comes up and says the bird with the Alpha Romeo, Judith or something, really fancies me and wants to see me in the Queen's tonight. John, Laura, Keith and Chris all leave at 9.30 and Philip and I go to the Queen's, where the two girls are assembled. We spend about an hour, the four of us, and at closing time they sod off with a couple of blokes leaving Philip and myself looking like a pair of silly buggers. I hate bloody stupid women, and especially women who make decent chaps look like idiots. We both shoot off and Philip drives like Hell let loose. Home at 11. Poor Philip apologises for wasting my evening. Judith, one of the tarts, rings me at about 11.15, but I act very cool. Wounded pride and all that. Must ring Philip tomorrow to see what further developments have occurred. John comes in not long after me and says he's been at the Hare and Hounds. Bed at 11.30. Interesting evening. Women make me sick.
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Wednesday May 2, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11 Mum. To try and keep a journal, run and pub and a baby is asking the impossible. Gone is that old wit and sparkle b...
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