It had been a big night out. At some point I had been wearing night vision goggles at a party where everyone was having a wild time except me. There was a steamy sauna and lots of loud music. The goggles helped me see more of the fun I wasn’t having. Two former female colleagues were propping each other up in the stairwell.
I tried to walk home down a crescent shaped City street that was criss-crossed with ladders hundreds of feet high. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to work in such dangerous conditions. Every man in a hard hat was climbing a wobbly ladder and there were drunk people making their ways home. Couldn’t they easily knock the ladders over? As it was, I was sober and had to crawl through some small spaces.
For the next part of my commute home I was standing up in an open top bus like an FA Cup winning team.
Then a policeman walked me home and offered to recreate the moment when my friend, SG, blew a big bumble bee out of the overflow pipe coming out of her kitchen. I didn’t think SG would be happy to be woken up in the middle of the night and told the policeman she had been out enjoying herself and should be left alone.