MIDWEEK PINTS HIT their glorious peak on Thursdays.
They’re defined by looming commitments the next day and a litany of lies you can’t help but tell yourself.
And the timeline looks something like this:
11am: “Nah, I won’t join you. Will probably have a quiet one in tonight”
1.04pm: “Well actually, I’ll come along for one”
6.21pm: “I’m actually feeling a bit thirsty, not gonna lie”
The justification begins.
7.08pm: “Sure I can’t skip out on a round, I’ll get the next ones”
Pint number two is happening.
8.43pm: “Ah it’s Thursday, you’d be mad to be going home”
You start convincing others to stay out.
You’ve gone full 180 and are now the chief pint ringleader.
10.55pm: “I’ll definitely get the last bus”
11:40pm: “I’ve missed the last bus now, and I don’t give a flying f**k”
You knew it was going this way.
1.43am: “Just heading off to the jacks”
Translation: I’m leaving without saying a word.
1.44am, muttered to yourself: “Tomorrow will be GRAND”
Lies compound the lies.
2.11am: “This kebab will serve me well in the morning”
3.47am: “I have exactly 3 hours and 13 minutes of sleep, I hate every single one of my life choices”
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