(In a quick aside, I was thoroughly amazed to discover a bar in Columbus that sold beer from this tiny little brewery from back home. I was particularly amazed as I only know of one or two bars in London that regularly stock St. Peter's beer one of which, the Head of Steam, I feel the occasional pang of nostalgia/longing for and here I am in the wilds of Ohio and I stumble upon a place that sells it. I'd do a jig if I was that way inclined.)
The second unusual item I found in my pocket was the key to someone else's apartment. Now, I must confess, when I found these two things in my semiconscious (read semi-drunk) state on Monday morning it did take me a few minutes to piece together exactly what I'd done the previous evening to acquire them. If I'd only had a couple of extra beers, I imagine my confusion would have lasted a good deal longer than a couple of minutes. After all, obscure English beer bottles and keys to other people's apartments are not everyday items to find in your pockets after a night on the lash. Come to think about it, even after completely sobering up I'm not entirely sure why it is I have the key.
Yesterday's post work highlight, I can't think of any during work highlights, involved my first brush with Columbus's finest. Well it wasn't really my brush, more the driver of the car I was in's brush. But the nice police officer did want to see my ID when he saw I wasn't wearing the lap belt part of my seat belt (of course, I'm pretty sure he didn't have a clue what to do with my UK driving license when he saw it, but no-one does over here it seems). In the words of Bill Hick's the driver then got to
audition for his freedom. I was very impressed when he passed the audition, as I swear even stone cold sober I'd probably fail one of those tests. Fortunately, the police officers clearly hadn't heard Bill's routine and at no point was any forced to do a flip, say the alphabet backwards or stick their dick in an exhaust pipe. (Oh by the way, Bill Hick's hilarious)