Let there be light

Last night TheBloke (TM) and I went to the cinema to see Burn After Reading and then went for a meal at a favourite Turkish restaurant in Islington.

The only memorable thing about the meal (other than the excellent food) was that the lamppost outside the restaurant was number 0047. Like it was the James Bond of lampposts. But with a number four. We discussed tippexing out the offending digit, but realised there would be a space, so it would be 00 space 7, which doesn't sound nearly so good. Not that I've ever seen a James Bond film, but everyone else talks about them quite a lot.

Anyway, that's the only memorable thing about the evening. Certainly not the fact that I (normally teetotal) was celebrating the weekend with a Long Island Iced Tea and may possibly have knocked it over in a spectacular, possibly tipsy fashion that may or may not have entirely covered the couple sitting on the table next to us. To the extent that the guy turned round and asked TheBloke (TM), "What did you do to upset her?"

That definitely didn't happen. Because if it did, that would have been a bit on the embarrassing side. And could possibly be put down to me being a lightweight. Which totally isn't true. If it had happened. Which it didn't.

Just remember the lamppost. That's all that matters.