The Answer
Perhaps I should choose my friends more wisely. Thinking about it, I guess you can choose your friends but not your neighbours. And it was my neighbour who dragged me out one Thursday night.
Don’t get me wrong, we have a few things in common, but I’m not convinced we’d be drinking partners if he didn’t live a couple of doors away. As far as I know, he doesn’t cook, doesn’t grow his own, or make beer. To be honest, for the most part he doesn’t even make good conversation.
But the evening in question had potential. A trip out to see a band and a few beers. Definite potential. That was until our carriage arrived.
An old co-worker of his roared up in an Audi A3 3.2 V6. I have no idea either. I can only quote the numerals as they were repeated to me on numerous occasions as we made our way to the gig. Did I mention it was a 3.2 V6?
With the dialogue on motors, the conversation then turned to an absent co-worker who was ridiculed for his choice of car. ‘I hope he at least had the decency to get the Z25 XST with the optional turbo under the hood’. WTF?
Having been baking earlier in the day, I decided now probably wasn’t a good time to ask if they preferred flapjacks made with honey or golden syrup.
As for the band, they were called ‘The Answer’. All I know is that the bass player looked a spit for Ron Weasley and the front man was a poor man’s Chris Robinson.
If the question is, were they a good rock band, I guess the answer is yes. Although seriously lacking in anything that sets them apart.
Unlike my flapjacks, which were different gear. Honey if you must know.
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