lupestripe | The Mysterious Case Of The Pup In The Bedroom

The next day was a Sunday, by which I mean today. A happy coincidence was that on Fathers' Day, my dad was in London helping my sister move back north. She has just finished university at UCL so the four of us - me, dad, my sis and my bro (who lives and works in the capital) - met up in Smith's by Smithfield Market for one of the finest breakfasts London has to offer. I rarely get to see my family these days and even though we could only spend an hour together before my dad drove my sister home, it was a great little reunion of sorts. It was good catching up.

After this I pottered around London for a bit as my ex was still in church before we arranged to meet up at Victoria Station. I noticed the Southern Railway stone edifice atop the clock and thought it struck a grandiose pose. I liked the jelly babies at Marble Arch too.

The next few hours became rather surreal. My ex's best friend - a nice lass called Juliet - was treating her dad to a Fathers' Day meal at the Bombay Spice restaurant off Edgware Road. My ex was invited and insisted we both went. Feeling uncomfortable, I tried to make my excuses but she was having none of it so we rolled up in a Merc at 3:10pm and headed inside.

Oddly, my ex's mother was sat at a different table, unbeknown to my ex, who was quite taken aback. My ex's uncle's family were there along with Juliet's mother, father and husband on a different table. I had met the husband the night before but never Juliet's mum and dad. I hadn't met Juliet in seven years before last night but we get on reasonably well considering I have only met her about five times in the last decade. I do like her actually - bubbly blonde and fun - and as filthy and rude as I.

Apprehensions soon melted as the father and I hit it off instantly. Within five minutes I was completely at ease as we found ourselves on very similar wavelengths. Maybe it was because he's a Londoner - a broad Cockney - but we just clicked. I quite like Cockneys. Anyway, we spent the next 90 minutes cracking jokes, I had food and drink bought for me and had a thoroughly great time. They were telling me how ghastly people in Middle England villages are and we were sharing and swapping stories as if we had known each other for years. In the end, I was invited to stay at their house in the country sometime whilst Mrs Juliet wanted to take me home there and then. It was a truly brilliant afternoon although the Indian sweets which tasted like Toilet Duck weren't particularly pleasant.

After the meal we had a quick walk around Buckingham Palace, taking in some colourful modern art, before I headed to catch the Megabus from Victoria Coach Station. Remember - it may be a bus but it's certainly not mega. People started to crack after about three hours. The toilet door keeps flying open (I am right next to it), another guy thinks he's Prince and is singing discordantly whilst a 12 year old boy has visited the toilet on no fewer than eight occasions. We also discovered the lock on the toilet doesn't work which is not great when the door keeps flying open on its own accord.

So this ends my weekend odyssey - back to work tomorrow and another adventure next weekend. I am like Noddy but without the bell end. Or that big eared chap who is disturbingly 50 years his senior. Little odd that.

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