Londoners Magazine

Reader, I failed you. I’m sorry, but last week’s rash promise of a whole week off the shandy came to nothing. NOTHING.

But why, George? Why? I hear you cry. Mainly, I fear, because I have the will power and resolve of a damp tissue. But there may be other factors. Let us examine the evidence.

Tuesday
Make wild oath detailing a week off the sauce. An oath that I now admit was made with a hangover. Quite a killer one actually.

Wednesday
Day two of the new, booze-free me. Make wholesome plan to see friend who’s been alcohol-free for six months after work. Friend blows me out at last minute. Go home in rage but do not reach for bottle. Weird about the house listlessly instead.

Thursday
Band practise day, the big test. Can I spend three hours in a room playing rock AND roll without other stimulation? Yes, of course I can!
Drummer cancels. Buy three Cobras on way to practice and supplement with five after.

Friday
Oh my God, my head. I honestly thought I might throw up this morning. Right, that’s it, back off the sauce. Have a meeting scheduled for 4:30pm in the pub, normally my favourite kind of meeting, but manage not to drink a thing. Have to go home at 8pm though when the strain gets too much. More late-night weirding about Terry Towers wondering just what it is one does when sober in the evening.

Saturday
Friend’s birthday boat trip. When I arrive everyone is drinking Pimms. I opt for tap water like a perfect saint-like person. After the trip, the party hits the beer. I have a Diet Coke then am ‘accidentally’ bought a JD and coke by a pal. It’d be rude not to, right? Five later my head really hurts. Go home, early.

Sunday
Too busy to turn around let alone think about having a boozey treat.

Monday
Today. Another crazy busy day. It’s now 10pm and I’m still AT IT. Honestly, it’d be nice to have a glass of delicious red to help my creative juices flow and send me off to the land of nod later. But I won’t because I’m ashamed of my pathetic behaviour. Out of a proposed seven days off the sauce I managed five.
Actually, that’s not so bad is it? And almost a personal best I reckon. Maybe I do deserve a little reward for all my hard work. Now, if only we had some in…