Our Fridays are usually wasted. I am often quite lethargic after the hectic pace of the working week. DH has been working "funny" hours, and he doesn't take to that really well. So it's usually early to bed for him, staring zombie-like at the TV for me, with maybe the excitement of a cup of herbal tea and an hour or two of blogging before bed. Tonight DH, who had consumed a small amount of scotch already when I got home, came out with "I fancy going to the pub!" Usually I ignore these outbursts until they go away but tonight I fancied some chips, something we haven't had for many months, due to the nominal dieting. In my American naivete I thought chips might be available at or near a pub, but in fact this proved not to be the case. Anyway, I drove a very very short distance to a pub with the unpromising name of The Beaver, which I had always thought must be a dive, but my yoga teacher apparently goes there once in a while and there's a sign outside advertising something called the Guitar Club, a sort of amateur night. So we thought we'd try it. And lo and behold, they were having live music tonight, and not just any live music, but a David Bowie tribute band. Which turned out to be surprisingly good, from the little I heard of them. We arrived at the pub a little past 7 pm, the band started at about 8:10, and I left about 8:30. Not that I didn't like the music; I just don't like pubs a lot more than I do like almost any music. This one is also quite expensive for Hinckley - £2.50 for a pint of Guinness. I left Darling Hubby there with about £30 in his pocket and already feeling no pain, blissed out by the serendipity of it all, singing silly songs and generally being a bit of an embarassment in between the music. I hope he gets home in one piece.