Emily was fun to be with, and it was a delight to have her and Mandi, the two loves of my life, with me. I kept back-referencing things from Emily's childhood, especially our counting Royal Mail vans game. This stems from when I was a postman, and we used to count vans and keep score. This game has lasted longer than my time as a postman, and has incorporated another twist since I moved to Nottingham. We keep score of our post vans, and when a tram passes us we have to guess who it will be named after, (the trams are all named after a notable Nottingham person; Robin Hood, Bendigo Thompson, Mary Potter, Torville and Dean, Sid Standard, DH Lawrence, and others). If you guess the name correctly, then you win the other person's post van total, and when you get to ten you are allowed to, but only if you want to, double it. However, you can still lose them at the next tram if you guess correctly.
We met my dad for a drink in town, and sat outside catching up and people watching, taking the piss out of people for what they were wearing and that sort of thing. My dad commented on the positive change in Emily too, so nice to have her back. The barman needed a few lessons in service though, I ordered our drinks, (the weather was sufficiently hot that it was okay to drink lager) and he told us the barrel needed changing and that he would bring our drinks outside to us. Emily had her Diet Coke and my dad had his drink, but Mandi and I had to wait. After what seemed to be an eternity, I went inside to see our barman serving someone else. To give him his due, as soon as he saw my face the penny dropped and he went to pour our drinks, but a little vigilance wouldn't have gone amiss.
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