Everyone’s had those moments where their partner arrives home, more than a little tipsy, and mumbles that they’ve accomplished some sort of drunken superhero act. In the past, Adam has arrived home with these delightful summaries of his evening for me:
• “I’ve just called my boss a bitch in front of all 250 staff!”
• “I found a new TV in the street for us, I carried it all 5 kilometres home!” (Then dumping an oversized, wood-panelled monstrosity from the ’70s onto the floor, after I point out that the power cable ends in a tangle of exposed wires, perhaps that’s why it was in the street)
• “I convinced the staff at Vodafone Arena to give me a corporate box at the cycling finals tonight, because I’m AWESOME!”
That last one happened just a few hours ago. He passed out shortly afterwards, so I’m unsure what further details there are. He is probably the only person I know who could talk his way into demanding things like this, though.
Well, I’m off to see Cog tonight (although I’m secretly much more excited about seeing MM9 support). Cog’s singer is the world’s first human catfish, no?