Beach Boys, part one

The three of us, Matt, Ray and myself took a night out from it all and went off to a place called the Black Angus Steak House that was about three miles away from the Ramada Motel.

I think Bob, Frank and Harold had gone off on a bender of their own, and we "young uns" made sure that we went off in the opposite direction.

A normal night, beers of course and a long wait for our steaks, so more beers. In fact it was almost an hour before our meals arrived and we had to do something, so more beers.


There was a group on, and we moved on to the lounge, it was a great laugh after a hard week preparing the PDR stuff, several more beers and a bit of what seemed like a bad impersonation of Graham Central Station on the stage and it was time to go.

The place was almost empty and they sort of asked us to leave, I still had a Budweiser and took it outside into the car park, which was empty, except for our Ford escort Wagon.

Matt and I climbed on the roof, pretended to be surfing while Ray took a photo of the drunken beach boys...

"If everybody had an ocean..."