Over The Hill

So, Jac’s 25. To commiserate, we all popped up to his farm in Watford on Saturday night for jolly knees up with him and his housemate Alex, who also happily his just turned the birthday corner. There was a theme, as ever – this one was outrageous ties (not, as his invitationary email clarified, loud men from Thailand). A quick scour round Guildford on Saturday afternoon resulted in two splendidly outsized foam ties for myself and Michelle, which were received with pleasure by the group as we turned up that night. Such excitement, in fact, that the entire group managed to tear their eyes away from the graphic lesbian porn that was playing loudly in the corner of the room.
I should take a moment to counter the impression you may now have of Jac. His farmhouse isn’t a seedy establishment, you understand – you may have visions of men in long anoraks feverishly ogling nubile forms on cheap, discreet televisions, in a dimly-lit room slit with light poking through the slatted blinds. No, Jac has standards. The televisions, for instance, are classy Sony numbers, placed prominently in the room. He has curtains. The videos and the anoraks, though, are just as you imagine.
We all bundled out in a fleet of taxis at 10pm for a trip to an 80’s nightclub in Watford town centre. The weather was dribbly and cold – enough even for me, with my substantial natural “insulation”, to feel a chill. The club, though, was a touch of genius. 80’s music blared out at us from the street; inside, giant rubik’s cubes hung from the ceiling when animated pacmen were chased by monsters round the walls. This was heaven.
We drank, we sang out loud, we spilled drinks and marvelled at the revolving dancefloor (at least, I think there was a revolving dancefloor – it may have just been the drink). Michelle and I even made friends with a ginger man. And then, we managed to get home, wet, windswept and full of late-night Quarter Pounders with cheese.
Happy birthday, Jac and Alex! You’re halfway to 50 – make the most of it…