Just back from a night away with one of the girls. We picked this random hotel in the middle of a housing estate in a midlands town, which had a bargain deal going on. You know the type of hotel, the one that’s advertised as a castle / country home / estate. Ah yes, there is an estate with this hotel, a housing estate of 542 3-bed semis, which in fairness do look spacious, close to numerous amenities and with a view…of the concrete block that is the hotel. Anyway, I didn’t give a shit, took the day off work, ran 5 miles in the morning and rocked on down to the hotel all set for a girly weekend of body scrubs, salad lunches wine, patting ourselves on the back for only eating half of the chips and cackling in the residents bar at 11.30 at night!  We arrived, checked in and I had my dreamed of Caesar salad with three glasses of wine. Needless to say this food diary to be returned to the new PT will read chicken salad dressing on the side, 0.5L water, rather than chicken Caesar salad with bacon and croutons, half the dressing on the side, 3 x white wine, 0.5L water. The lounge was amok with golfers, men around my Dad’s age, just in from the 18 holes, pint of the black stuff and scrutinising the shot on the 12^th by the water.  Anyway, going back to my trip to the concrete block in the midlands, myself and my buddy were there in the lounge, being the very girls we kinda slightly sneered about three years ago. We’re dissecting the shocking cost of weddings (she’s to be wed soon), gasping at the price of photographers, convincing ourselves that flowers are over-rated, resigning ourselves to the fact that you will spend on a wedding what my uncle spent on a 3 bed semi-D in Drumcondra 20 years ago, when I realised “Shhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit! Body scrub!”  I’d booked a body scrub for 3 and it was now 2.55. I blame the dhrink!  I’m sure the therapist took a step back when I smiled, slightly cock-eyed and through pursed lips before going “Hiiiiiii *Chablis breath*”… Oh well, I won’t be rushing back in a hurry!  After the scrub and a camomile tea in the relaxation room, I dreamily headed back to the bedroom in my robe and bikini. For a split second I thought now here’s where you end up standing at the lift and you hear the words “Nemo?” and spinning around to some ex with his stunning 20-something year old bride. So when I got through the lobby, I bounced into the lift and hit floor 2…the doors parted, I spun around (I’d been checking for chin hairs in the lift mirror!) and there as if in slow motion, was Jim…from The Fish Tank!  We both stared at each other, I said “Ah Jaysus…” and Jim said what we were both thinking “This Fish Tank is too small!”