Four separate times, by four different people, Marcus and I were told, "You two are forever going out. I don't know how you do it."
I don't know how, either, but after a weekend like this, I know why.
Friday: Marcus had friends visiting from Sweden: his friend Frederik, whom he has known since they were 18, his sister Frida, and their younger brother Tobias, a ridiculously young-looking 19. Living in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, they were impressed with the swish decor, lush terraces and stylish people at Fiction. The two brothers - straight - were a bit nervous about all the sweaty naked torsos on display, but the sister lapped it up. [Er, may have to rephrase that one.]
Saturday: Marcus had to go into town to buy fabric for a wedding dress [I'll allow him to tell you about that] so I went to visit my ex, who has broken his arm. That was the plan anyway, but we ended up outside Comptons for several hours. Drinking in the sun always seems like a good idea at the time, but waking up at 9pm with a hangover is never pleasant, especially when your boyfriend is trying to wake you up to go to Hope* in Brixton. We made it there just after midnight, paid our five quid, and walked straight out again. The place was like a sauna - hot, hot, hot, and very, very wet. We grabbed a couple of drinks and lounged about on the benches in the "beer garden". We eventually decided to brave the heat again, and discovered that the dance floor itself was bearably ventilated. We left around 4am.
Sunday: Andy had invited us round in the afternoon, and as he lives quite Marcus's place, we decided to walk round there. Half an hour later, we arrived dripping wet with sweat. The heat, the humidity, and the excesses of the previous couple of nights really took their toll. Thankfully, Andy's flat is cool, in both senses of the word. Then it was off to the RVT, which was also incredibly hot. We retired to the grassy knoll and chatted to Ian and Dave and Kelvin and Guy and wiped the sweat off Luca and just generally had a perfect end to a lovely, hot, weekend.
That's why we do it. How? Ask me on Weepy Wednesday.