The weeks of planning had all gone by, my original suggestion that we all go for a curry somewhere was ignored and then after much discussion the consensus was that we should all go for a curry.
The usual sort of night, started at Paul Boyds house where we had something to eat, I think Paul's girlfriend loaded us up with garlic "to keep the vampires away" and we then took the train down from Prescot to Liverpool.
Festivities started off in a newish place called "The American Bar" which was sortof, but not quite, an American Bar, well, it was a lot different than the Long Beach, Acapulco Inn that's for sure.
The place we surrounded for the curry was a place called "The Kismet" and we had the usual tackle in a place such as that, a grand mix of curry, onion bhajees and for some strange reason, Yugoslavian wine.
The night moved on to a club called Sloanes and I believe at one minute to midnight, in fear of turning into a pumpkin, Ian Tasker disappeared to grab the last bus home.
The more sensible amongst us stayed and followed the slippery slope into pissdom, ending the night with a long dawdling walk, probably accented by early morning onion bhajees if they were available.
And yes, the garlic had done it's job very well.
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