It's strange but lovely to be going about my daily life without the hairy slug on my lip, although I still found myself forgetting it was gone and looking at people to see how they were responding to me. And the worrying thing is that most of them still looked at me as if I was mad. So maybe it has never been the moustache.
But after the long drive home I got to have the rest of the day off and had the unusual pleasure of spending Friday night in the pub. I went for a drink with my editor Jake to celebrate the imminent launch of my new book (
didn't you know about that?)
Since my heart scare I have done pretty well at being healthy (and only had about 5 units of alcohol in the last week and a half) and as I've got older I have found it difficult to consume more than a couple of pints of beer before feeling sleepy, but tonight I managed three pints of lager and two pints of Guinness. It was like I was 30 again! Except I got really drunk.
But it was fun sipping lager in the sunshine, amongst a huge hoard of people either celebrating St George's Day or maybe just the end of the working week. It was almost like summer had started. But then it got a bit chilly so we went inside instead.
A man in a bowler hat (who for a second I thought had a Chaplin moustache too) had a portable record player with which he was entertaining the patrons, both with music and some flying Barbie dolls on wires that danced and spun around as the discs spun. It's eccentric people like this guy who are the heart and soul of London. And are part of a long history of strange and wonderful figures who have kept the regular working folk entertained with their crazy stunts, with no desire for fame or fortune. Just for the sake of fun. It's good to be home.
And to not have a fucking Hitler moustache.
After a very welcome curry, my unhealthy night was over and I must have somehow flown home on a magic carpet because I was very soon asleep in my bed on the other side of town.
I had celebrated being English by commemorating a Palestinian saint with some Belgian beer, some Irish stout and some Indian food. Which is how it should be. Nothing could be more English.
