Hangovers and biking

I have a bit of a hangover today. An old friend from 'back home' and 'way back when' (as the Cosa Nostra would say) was in town so he popped over for a beer and a curry. It was gone midnight before I got to bed which is unusual for me on a schoolnight. I was dreading waking up, and more specifically riding the bike. I had to fill up with petrol and the new guy at the garage (obviously got a bit more confidence now as his name tag was the right way round) started a conversation with me about fuel consumption. It was then that I realised that I had a hangover as I had lost the power of coherent speech. I'm sure he thinks that I have some sort of disability now and will say to his colleagues every time I go in 'You know it's so good that they let retarded people use their own transport'.

The journey was a bit odd, I rode like a crazed man. I managed to overtake a police car on the motorway at about 90mph and only realised when I looked in my mirrors and saw him fade into the distance. He was good about it though, maybe he couldn't find the 'turn on blue light' button. Perhaps in my state my senses were heightened as I noticed that the 3 speed cameras on the stretch between the M3 and Richmond had been turned around to face the other direction. I wonder when they did this, and how many times I have ridden past them. I suspect if this is not something that happened last night, I might receive a few tickets in the post. Oh well. Someone has buggered around with the timings on the lights by Harrods and there are big queues there now. I just chucked the bike into the bus lane and undertook everyone. Out my way, I've got a hangover. I was overtaken by two scooters with roofs. I mean, a scooter is bad enough, but one with a roof? How naff is that. Christ man, it's only a bit of rain, it won't make your body disolve. Then I got held up in Soho by two vans that whose drivers were having an argument. As I was sorting out myself after parking, a man approached me and asked if I knew where Winsley Street was. I had never heard of it, and having regained speech, gave this fella the bad news. As I was about to head off to the office I noticed that we were actually standing on Winsley Street, and I have been parking there nearly every working day for 18 months. This guy must think I am a real idiot.

So I'm in the office and am slowly rehydrating but dreading the day ahead as I think this is a stealth hangover and will start to hurt soon.