It was an interesting night on tv. MTV were having a sort of cribs/pimp my ride marathon. Alas, none of the cribs were that interesting (I have no desire to see Peter Andre's living space) but pimp my ride, as always, was sublime. I want a yoga land cruiser. I do. I do. However, I didn't watch nearly enough of it. Somehow I got caught up in the whole men's overall gymnastic championship thing. I do not understand gymnastic commentators. i don't understand why dips may be bad and why sometimes you want your body to look one way and then another time you can't have your arms that way. Yet still I watched. And yes, I know lots and lots about whether or not that German woman should have been disqualified on the three day eventing and whether or not it was a refusal (but we can blame Jilly Cooper for mu understanding three day eventing).

While my sister-in-law was in residence, drinking vodka and russian cognac, eating an awful lot of salsa, i started to tell her all about how i came to believe i had managed to break my tailbone while spending the night in ballymurphy. And the story reminded her of the great let's drink in the park and eventually get my legs waxed story of several years ago.

It was actually one of those Augusts when Belfast had good weather. They do happen. We sat in Botanic and drank white wine. Then a couple of guys tried their chat up lines on Julia and we decided it was time to move on. Headed up the Lisburn Road because a)I was living in Finaghy at the time and b) I had an appointment to get my legs waxed which was the first of my whole waxing experiences. Decided to stop off at Tatu and drink some red wine. While at the bar noticed there was a guy on his own, reading The Guardian. Well, you know what happens. Guy on own, with my favorite newspaper. We sat down to talk to him. He was a brief. He told us he was waiting for someone. This guy shows up and they tell us we have to leave because they need to talk business. Who does business in a bar in the middle of the afternoon in Belfast? With a lawyer? Anyway, at some point, they conclude business and then invite us over and buy us drinks. I feel nervous about said waxing appointment drink a whole bunch. And postpone appointment. Eventually lawyer rings. Second guy knew some friend of my sister-in-law. He gives us a lift up the road. I get my legs waxed (I actually throw up all over the pristine white treatment room because of all the red wine and stress). We go home. I resolve to never drink again. Sometime that weekend, the second guy gets arrested. For having a whole bunch of illegal sky boxes. And cannabis. With intent to supply. My sister-in-law maintains he is still serving at her majesty's pleasure.

Drinking with me is always an adventure. Always.