It's official Postman is an old fart.Let me tell you why.Yesterday we went to Manchester,son had invited us out for a meal.So by train we go,we buy lunch first a meal deal off the railway shops.Then we get to his lovely flat,we meet up with his gf and her parents,a great funny couple.So a taxi bus to town and a visit to a,games bar,best way of describing it.We play crazy pool,who ever invented that is a,sadist,then a game of ten pin bowling.Where I had my own equivalent of a semi final penalty shootout.Tenth frame I am the last bowler,I have two balls to clear all the pins,and I win.First ball eight go down,leaving two one in front of the other,simple task.I collected my thoughts,blocked out the noise around me,sent the ball like an arrow,down the middle,what what was happening the ball was rolling slower,not enough speed,it sailed wide,another coat of varnish or more speed would have smashed them I failed likes an English footballer.So then comes a nice evening meal.But it was then I found out I am old.A bar what a noise,musician singing and playing keyboard,later a DJ, shouting by drunk blokes,shouting conversations,beer 5-25 a pint.Then time to say goodbye,walking through Manchester city centre,crowds of young and older people,then drunks on the train loud stupid conversations,till they fell asleep I think,then Leeds smaller than Manchester but seemed more crowded,but a tension in the air.I don't think you will see me rushing out on a Friday evening for a night out,then came sleep till I got cramp,plus both knees aching and this morning my hydrocele aches a bit ten pin bowling has done that,so today I will sit in my chair in the conservatory with a tartan blanket over my knees muttering ,it was not like that in my day,over and over to myself.
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