This Is Not The Joker
It was Friday night, I’d had a lovely swim at Guildford Lido and felt energised and refreshed.
What to do next, maybe watch a bit of TV?
The trouble is I can’t ever seem to work out how to switch it on. It drives my teens crazy. It’s not just one simple control anymore, it confuses my menopausal mum mind.
So I didn’t bother and flitted about on my phone instead.
Feeling restless and a little empty nestless.
Earlier in the week, my husband had returned to Kyiv for work, and our teens were occupied in their own way.
But what to do?
At seven o’clock, I went to Sainsbury's and shopped. I bought a new pair of combat trousers, a keffir protein yoghurt, and a box of nutty muesli.
I was home by eight.
The meet-up group I’d joined a few weeks ago sprang to mind. I had a quick search in my e-mail and discovered “The Star & Schism Marvel vs DC — Friday Night Rocks”.
No idea either, so I slapped on a bit of mascara and jumped in the car (left the ebike for this adventure).
Upon arrival, I spotted John the Joker sipping beer and assumed his table was the meet-up, they weren’t. They invited me to sit with them and have a beer. Later, we discovered the main group, totalling about 30, and headed to the club.
I had a little dance.
and spotted this:
I was home by twelve, slightly ahead of one teen, and sipped my tea.
Check out Technofreak. I’m now his agent.