SUN 13th JUNE : LAST MINUTE PANIC

With the Lady away for another day in the Hamptons I got down early to the One on One in East Village to watch the footie. Watched the Swiss / Croat number with the help of a couple of glasses of black gold and an All Irish Breakfast.

It got crowded just before the England France kick off. Luckily the table service helped me through the match. Through the second half of the game we naturally were good humored a little rowdy and wound up the Frenchies behind us.

Of course, what a waste/waist of drink. The 7 pints of Guinness and a pint of Boddington (the waitress mistakenly ordered) ruined by a bunch of Frenchies jumping up and down behind me with their tops off. Who can blame them. If my team had come back in extra time and won the match I could have probably done the same.

We commiserated by trying to find a new bar with open top terrace on Houston near the corner of Clinton. The door was open but the bar downstairs was closed. We walked up to the roof desk to find a party in full swing. A determined German (luckily not French) asked who we were. The drunk English girl beside me said that I was her husband and that seemed to be OK. I quickly lost her and mingled. Looking back on it, I think it was a Puerto Rican party for the local people but the German sausage definitely filled the gap since the Irish black pudding earlier. How cosmopolitan I am.

I staggered out as the sun was setting full of Latin swagger and all but forgetting the result of the Euro 2004 match. I tubed it home, meandered to the bed via a couple of walls, only to see the answermachine flashing: Oh No! The Lady's going to be home tonight! I looked at my watch - 1 hour. I considered my options: shower, breath freshner, coffee. I chose sleep.

Luckily the Lady was exhausted when she got in an hour later and wanted to go to bed. All she could say is, "You stink of beer." All I could mumble was, "But we lost."