My quiet night out didn’t end the way I expected it to – Rick Jackson
I informed my wife I didn’t need my driving licence as I had no intention of frequenting an establishment which required ID at the door. Yes, I was ‘out out’ on Saturday night as I met up with six old friends – some of which I’ve not seen in several years.
But that’s life.
We are all busy with work and families but I was decided we’d make an attempt to get together in 2018 and have a night out like the good old days.
It’s March 2019 and we finally manage it.
I suggest we meet up at 4pm, knowing damn well I’ll be ready to go home by 9pm and will time it right for Match of the Day.
Some of them who don’t have the tie of children were having none of it and a table was booked for dinner at Gunwharf Quays at 8pm. I thought: how long will I last?
Pre-dinner drinks started a bit earlier with the dads of the group and by the time we made the restaurant, we were well on our way...
The evening flew by, with conversations darting all over the place, finding out what we’d been up to since we last met.
We caught up with stories of our children and how tiring fatherhood is, whilst others talked about the pitfalls of modern dating, girlfriends and relationships.
Especially how women just don’t understand men need their ‘cave time’ and that only one wardrobe is necessary.
We talked about everything except Brexit!
So it’s now 11:30pm – what do we do? Head home? It’s way past my bedtime and I told Sarah I’d be back early.
But instead we ended up in the Casino until 2am and at 2.30am I was tucking into a McDonalds on Newgate Lane.
Yes, it was like the good old days and this old dog can still party with the rest.
We even got some admiring glances from the ladies on the table opposite who also took our group photo.
I paid for that frivolity later that morning, as my children woke just after 6am.
Back to reality with a massive bump... to my head.
If you’re going to buy a bus, my advice is… don’t do it!
Don’t buy a bus, they are a pain in the posterior!
My bus started to stall and with as much mechanical knowledge as my four-year-old son, some friends took a look.
With a bus, you can’t simply push it off the road so it was vital we found out what was wrong. It was down to a small spring which holds the accelerator rod in the idle position.
As it was slipping back too far, it was starving the engine of fuel – hence the conking out. As with most things, a bit of WD40 and a whack with a hammer and now all is well again in bus land.
Thankfully it wasn’t the fuel pump – that would be very expensive and probably enough to induce divorce proceedings.
I’m charming my wife to get to Wembley on Mother’s Day
There is now a charm offensive underway in the Jackson house.
I’m pulling out all the stops, but it will be worth it. Maybe some flowers will be too much but breakfast in bed this weekend will go a long way.
You see, Pompey’s first appearance at Wembley since 2010 co-insides with Mother’s Day! What plonker thought it would be a good idea to host a final of a cup competition on such a day?
I’m sure many men will be on a similar plan of attack to get the green light to be one of more than 39,000 Pompey fans cheering us on.
It might not be a major trophy up for grabs, but I didn’t think we’d be at Wembley ever again – I just have to be there!