Cut it close

I managed my double-booked Saturday just fine.

I met Miss Sixty at South Ken for lunch; we wandered around looking for a restaurant that appealed to us and ended up at Tootsie's. It was full of families with well-behaved children, just enjoying a pleasant weekend afternoon.

We ordered a delicious starter of calamari - I adore calamari and have the habit of trying it where offered. The sweet chili sauce had an exciting dash of coriander in it.
Miss S ordered a lamb burger which was so thick it fell apart as soon as she looked at it. I had a chicken caesar wrap.
All very filling.

We popped into Christie's SK for an auction calendar, then caught the bus and went off to her apartment in the old King's College campus. I saw her happy doggie Zucchero, who was so excited to see me, and we horsed around a bit like old playmates reunited.
She made me a cup of tea and we sat on the floor going through her music collection and listening to CDs.
I returned the Umbert Eco book she'd lent me earlier in the summer (The Name of the Rose) so she lent me the DVD. I have lent her The Tears debut album, so she lent me one of her Suede CDs because The Tears was formed from the Suede breakup. They sound identical and unmistakeable.
So for my listening pleasure I have borrowed 7 CDs:

The Matrix soundtrack (unfortunately not the score) - so lots of Rob Zombie/Marilyn Manson
Scissor Sisters - don't know which album without the insert
Josh Groban - Josh Groban (he was in a late season of Ally McBeal)
Dido - No Angel
Radiohead - OK Computer
Oasis - (What's the Story) Morning Glory?
Suede - Coming Up

When I left, she took Zucchero for a walk in the cemetery, and I joined the multitude leaving the footie game at Chelsea. They were quiet, orderly and well-behaved. Why?
Because no buses came, I walked from the King's Road, up Fulham Road, to South Ken. There was no Jubilee line so after waiting to get on to a succession of full buses at Baker Street, I finally made it home at 6.30 - on time for the housemates' dinner. We enjoyed ourselves so much that we decided we would reserve the dining room for housemates' dinners about once every few weeks. New tradition established.

Clogs was absent because he couldn't postpone a visit to Cambridge, so Y. had invited a friend of hers from her postgraduate years. She has spent the past few years writing her PhD in economics. She's had enough and is going to finish it soon. (If I were her, I would opt for a mercy killing.)