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• #27
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• #28
When I used to work in members' bars a few year ago, back in my postgrad student days, cycling home at sunrise after a 12 hour shift and a few post-work bottles of Cuervo Tradicional was a regular occurrence. As was pulling in somewhere around Holborn to sit on the curb for a cheeky forty winks so that I could manage it back to the loving embrace of my bed. All it took was 5-10 minutes and I'd be good. Sometimes I'd have nodded so far off, that it was only when I tried to 'roll over' that I realized that I was still on the bike. How I never died during those years, I'll never know. Nor did the policeman who once woke me up on the curb and 8am one morning to check if I was alive.
all we need is the after shot where he is still there but the bike isn't ;)