Holy jesus it’s hot. The appeal of a nice cold beer, in a few hours, beckons. It’ll be the usual quiet and restrained evening of course, some shandies, a bite to eat maybe and then home early.
OR
We’ll end up necking beer like it’s running out, spending a fortune for a meal we don’t really want, decide to buy several champagne cocktails at Β£25 a pop (just to try!), and I’ll stagger in as dawn breaks.
