You know you’ve had a good night out when you wake up in the morning with an “entry stamp” on your wrist. I mean, you’ve gone out with some mates, you’ve had some beers, you’ve even had a dance with some girl you don’t know to a song you don’t remember. And just when your attention is focussed on the day ahead, the wrist stamp brings back memories of the night before.
And then of course you wander to the shop to pick up the papers, which you’ll eventually get around to reading, and as you hand over the cash, the woman behind the counter looks at your risk with that knowing smile. And maybe a sense of judgement too in her eyes as deep down she thinks… “you’re a little old to be going out clubbing aren’t you?”