It was the other half's Christmas do on Saturday night. It was also his mountain bike gang's Christmas pub crawl during the day. By bike. In fancy dress.
We were getting picked up at 6.30pm. By 5.30pm I was beginning to wonder where the hell he was. It was dark, his phone had died and there was no sign of him anywhere. Then Wendy reminded me he did the exact same thing last year. So I stopped worrying and carried on getting ready.
Sure enough he turned up 45 minutes before we were due out. Sweaty. Bikeless. In a Santa suit. And pissed.
He yawned his head off throughout the entire meal, drank his body weight in more lager and wine and talked complete bollocks. We left after he fell asleep at the table.
I am buying a bike and going on the pub crawl with him next year. It's the only solution.