Our alarm woke us at 7, but it was too late really and we splashed in the bath like hyper-active porpoises. We left at 9:30 with our belongings in two bags, like vagrants, and headed to the bus stop. We arrived at the bus station with five minutes to spare and left for Manchester at 9:45. Ally in a pair of striped dungarees. Like a sexy Andy Pandy. Whatever happened to him? Manchester in an hour, and Stockport half an hour after that. I found Edgeley too, which is something of a fete. Found Glynnie thinner. Lily her jovial self. Joined the lads at a wine bar where the barmaid resembled a Mohican warrior, but looking good with it. Pleasantly pissed we went to Debenham's and took a candid photo of Steve's sister working in 'childrens shoes'. Steve wasn't with us and later we saw him escorting a young lady in town. He pretended not to see us. A massive dinner back at the Hollywood (Hotel). The dog, Sadie, didn't take to me, and cowered in the kitchen. Watched an ancient film on the telly (Diana Dors was 16 and that's years, not stones) and struggled to keep awake.
At 7 I went into the bar where Lily allowed me to pull a few pints for the 'reglers'. I was slightly flustered when people asked for more than one drink. After an hour we were changed and out to the Armoury. We met the boys and went by taxi to the Chapel House pub, a recently 'done up' spot, full of plastic palms, and ____ men. Garry and Steve spent two hours wondering whether to chat up two young ladies and drove us crazy with their fumbling indecision. Billy enjoyed spinning Ally on a swivel chair. The drinks were warm. We walked a mile, and taxied a mile, and back at the Hollywood we sat with Lily. She terrified us talking about pub management. Couples are, she says, driven wild with temptation to run off with the first person who comes along and buys them a rum and peppermint. She was gloomy about the business to show us the down side, but doesn't deter us.
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