*Pete, feeling the pressure, whips out his little book of excuses and thumbs through its worn and ragged pages. He flicks past the obvious - the hangovers, the punctures, the incoming cold and the outgoing one, he continues past his bookmarked specials, the red ribbon poking out between the pages as if it were sticking a tongue out at his commitments. He stops, about two thirds of the way through. The One-off Excuses section. He slides his finger down the page, eyes squinting.
More sodding leaving drinks tomorrow night, apparently these are also mine?
That'll do, he thinks, and with the joy of a man who has once more dodged a bullet, posts his get-out for all to see*
*Pete, feeling the pressure, whips out his little book of excuses and thumbs through its worn and ragged pages. He flicks past the obvious - the hangovers, the punctures, the incoming cold and the outgoing one, he continues past his bookmarked specials, the red ribbon poking out between the pages as if it were sticking a tongue out at his commitments. He stops, about two thirds of the way through. The One-off Excuses section. He slides his finger down the page, eyes squinting.
That'll do, he thinks, and with the joy of a man who has once more dodged a bullet, posts his get-out for all to see*