Dan made the trip from London to his hometown of Bath this weekend. He turned up at my flat yesterday afternoon, rather sodden from the rain, and demanding we make an immediate trip to a local café so he could buy himself a (late) breakfast.

After eating a rather strange looking sandwich, Dan returned to my flat, where he did what he has always done best – sitting on the sofa, drinking coffee while watching someone else play video games.

He demanded I play Gears of War. I don’t normally play this game, mainly because I am shit at it, but also as I become frustrated and angry when I get brutally slaughtered with chainsaws. Yesterday was different though. I entered a random session and stumbled across some young player who was more than happy to show me how to play. Dan seemed pleased, but like some of the international players in the session, became rather troubled by the behaviour of my team mate and I – both using excessively foul language “fuckin’ cuntin’ baaastards”, etc…

Mr. Watkins then came round for his weekly visit, and took us to Nandos in town. It seemed like we spent two hours in the Portuguese restaurant, half of which was waiting for Simon to finish his shift at Sainsbury’s. In which time, Dan ate his way through enough chicken to populate a barn at a Bernard Matthews farm. A waiter asked us to change tables halfway through our meal – a large party wanted to sit in the area we were eating – “large” being the operative word. The party of fatties reminded me of a family of elephants (“They’re moving in herds. They do move in herds”). Anyway, I moved without complaining, mainly because I was offered a free drink for my troubles – never say “No” to a free bottle of cider (unless it’s White Lightning).

After eating, Dan and Simon returned to my flat to play Bomberman. Basically, the typical Saturday I always have, but with the presence of Dan.