There's times I feel old and decrepit and miss the days when I was younger… and there's times I don't.
Last night was one of the latter times.
Driving home at about 3am I saw a car with its hazards flashing away merrily, pulled up by the side of the road near Chiswick Bridge. On the grass verge next to it stood a girl in a strapless black party frock, supported by one arm against a lamp-post, doubled over, vomiting miserably.
Oh, it's good to be old sometimes.