Written After Four Pints in The Evening Star

1:20am. Back from the Evening Star. Slightly, well... Not exactly drunk - or even really merry. Just not entirely sober.
Cold outside. I mean really cold., Spectral icy snow painful cold. But no snow. Leather jacket not warm enough.
At the Evening Star:
Weird vibe. Some altercation in the toilets between ageing middle aged men. Lots of other men took it very seriously. They all had grey hair and looked slightly surprised that they were in a 'toilet incident'. One of the men was seen crying at the table later on. The manager of the Star said that 'one of the men' had said 'something' to 'someone else' and that 'it had been taken the wrong way'.
At some point somebody smashed one of the windows of the pub. Fractured it anyway. Didn't see what happened. Everyone turned around to look at the smashed window.
Somebody accidentally spilled a pint on Al's legs.
Doctor Occult turned up.
Greg turned up.
Chloe sang Kate Bush songs (she has a very good voice).
Claire came from a works do.
Tony looked very cool in a hat.
Jo-Jo and Seamus were there.
Andy came from a works do.
Etc etc.
My voice was weird because I have a cough.
Outside a boy fell over. We had left the pub and were preparing to head home. Drunk-slipped up. Face down on the pavement. Crowd of us helped him up but he began to cry. Poor boy. How old? -Fifteen? Sixteen? Said he ha to get back to Worthing.
Al and Claire said they would see him to the station.
Andy, Ben and myself caught the bus back.
Passed by Andy's old house. Light on. Someone there.
Living in the old capsule.
Home now.
Andy in his room.
Asleep.
Am I tired?
Probably should stop writing now and go to sleep.
Cold.
Jaggedy-edge cold.
1:30am.