By TheOttawacker

Things starting to come right with the world

It’s not that I had a headache, but I felt seriously slow this morning. The neighbours upstairs had come in from a night on the tiles at around 7.30am and had decided it would be a good time to start playing music. Guess where they came from. I felt like calling Fran and telling him not all young English people deserved such compassion.

I got up and showered, made a coffee and went for a quick walk. Then I came in and turned my music on full blast, making sure I angled the speakers towards the ceiling. Then I went out again and had a coffee. Thirty minutes later, I came back in and turned the music off. I could here mutterings from upstairs. Mission accomplished.

What was that I was saying about Liverpool not being at their best? I was going to forego the pleasure of football, primarily because I am on a tight budget and can’t afford to sit drinking in bars all day, but 10 minutes in, I realized that I was thinking of the game the whole time and any pretence at ignoring it was counter intuitive. So I went off to see it at “Pals” bar, which was exactly as you would imagine. Exactly.

At moments like this, I either become Super-Scouse or lose my accent completely. As I was pretty sure we would lose (I know, I know), I adopted anonymity and sat nursing a pint until Man City scored. I was already screaming at the TV because their goal had come from a bad refereeing decision (the Mancunian referee gave a goal kick when it should have been a Liverpool corner), so I continued my élan towards the bar and got another pint. When I came back, it was still 0-0, so I felt I was in the strange position of having time travelled.

So much for negativity. Salah pulled one out of the fire, and we won. Never doubted them for a minute.

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