Drywall Dave is dead

this man's hat is older than most children

I wake up on a strange couch, the daylight streaming into my screwed shut eyes, my tongue ashen and huge in my mouth. I check my watch (still there), wallet (likewise) and kidneys (sore but present). I try opening my eyes and see a vast protuberance looming in front of me.

It's a triffid. No, wait, it's a hookah, which explains why my mouth smells of burnt roses. I check my watch: 0830. I've been asleep 3 hours. I sit up and get my bearings, and stagger down the corridor to find Mr Lucien, hoping-but-not-really to find him inflagrante delecto. No dice: he's curled up on a comfy bed [this prime sleeping spot snaffling would turn out to be a theme]. I wake him and inform him that we're going back to the hotel, to enjoy another hour's kip before we have to check. Somehow, the big man's managed to secure a 12.30 check out for us, which makes things a lot more civilised. Lucien writes a note for Kathleen, having run out of silk hankies and a small cake (these being his usual calling card when sneaking out of an alien apartment). Being no fun, he refuses to allow me to draw a tiny cock and balls on the note, this being my calling card. On we go, down in the elevator and past the contemptuous glances of various concierges, and we're away in slumber land for a few precious moments more.

We had arranged that afternoon to meet up with 'a bunch of people' at No Way Jose's at around 1400, for today was Cinco De Mayo, a Mexican holiday that they don't celebrate so the Americans do, and do so with gusto. With this in mind, we left DC at noon, a schedule that immediately but us at a disadvantage. After picking up Ethan (nicknamed Wilson... I was told why, but I've forgotten), going to Taco Bell (a long held ambition of mine. It's not an especially lofty one, but it meant that i could strike it off the list. I think my obsession with it stems from the film Demolition Man, when Nigel Hawthorne takes Stallone out to dinner in the future, and it's really fancy... Well it wasn't), getting back, showered, walking down to the light rail and walking across town, it was four o'clock, and the one guy, John, who ad turned up at two, had a hammered girlfriend to contend with. She was called Bobbie, and since that appears to be my handle over here, we formed an impromptu loose association. We had a hand signal and everything.

Notice how the mouth forms an 'o', cleverly forming 'bob'

Sadly John had to take her home shortly after this picture was taken....

At about 1930, refreshed with and tasty tacos, I got the whim that i hankered after a more authentic American drinking experience (though what could be better that appropriating another country's holiday, a la St Pat's day and then going a bit mental about the whole caper? I suppose that i hadn't considered this option, but hell, i was tired and needed somewhere where we could find a seat).

We went off looking for a place called Vinnie's or something of that ilk, but were soon enticed into a place that didn't seem to have a name, but it did have 2 inhabitants. One was a terrified looking barmaid (her first night), and a rangy broken down looking man, who turned out to be called Elaine, a 50 year old lesbian who used to work in construction. She soon taught me how to play video poker (being mindful to kick me off the machine as i neared her high score), and told some stories. Pointing to a faded tattoo of a heart on her left arm, she said, 'Dry Wall Dave gave me that 20 years ago. Still, he's dead now.'* She also beat Lucien one handed at pool, while we cheered on (me especially who had laid down $5 and given odds of 4-1 that Elaine would prevail).

This for me, was the highlight of Cinco De Mayo. I got meet a few of Mr Lucien's old high school chums, including Tony Difranco, a short Italian man who is Deputy campaign manager for a Democratic nominee for city mayor, Kiefer Mitchell. He bought some shots in a bar filled with assholes, so i decided to campaign on Kiefer's behalf; Tony gave us stickers and everything!

When we were done harassing strangers, we got some food, or as I like to call it, THE BIGGEST MOST GIGANTIC PIZZA YOU EVER SAW. I put a tenner next to it, in order to grant you some idea of scale, but it barely does it justice. Mr Lucien ate most of it. He now weighs 300 lbs.

*Apparently not