Dear Diary
This evening I’ve got myself involved one step deeper in the eternal triangle. I don’t know whether I was in a bad mood this evening or whether Mike was worrying about his exams tomorrow but we didn’t get on very well when we went out for a drink. To add to all the difficulties I got it into my head that I wanted to wear my lilac two-piece and so, by finishing it made myself 75 mins late getting to Michael’s house.
Dear Diary
This morning I was woken up at 11.45 and informed that Vic was downstairs waiting for me. Taking a few minutes to rouse myself I donned my blue silk housecoat and strolled in to receive my guest. He stayed talking for about half hour, though he had actually come about the Chris Barber LP. I told him I didn’t get paid until next Wednesday so he said he’d come back then.
Dear Diary
Last night Michael and I went to the Sports Club to play table tennis. Not much came of that, as, after 15 mins we played records. Finally met Vic who Mike is always talking about. He is nice, much better than the crowd of last Saturday.
Dear Diary
We started 10.30 am, loaded with sandwiches, camera etc. Mike in slacks and sweater, me in new trousers and ‘horse blanket’.
We decided to catch a 145 bus to Chingford and walk through to Epping Wakes Arms. We got to the Royal Forest Hotel OK, had a shandy and started walking. The unfortunate part was that we were walking in the wrong direction! We did find out when we were in Buckhurst Hill, ‘cos we walked around it 3 times.
Dear Diary
Michael arrived in the afternoon, full of plans for where we are going in the evening and on Monday. He had been drinking with a crowd of friends at lunch-time and half agreed that we would go out with them Saturday evening and Monday. He checked with me and then phoned Peter Wilson and ok’d the evening.
Dear Diary
As arranged Michael came to the house at 6 o’clock to take me to see South Pacific. After a bit of a tussle about what time we would get up to the West End, I was wrong and we were early. It was a bad start and could have deteriorated into a bad-tempered evening but anticipation of seeing the film overrode any impending argument. We went into this old decrepit type bar just off Tottenham Court Road and had a drink to while away the half hour we had spare.
ALAMORE 