Dry Friday

The owner of a live music establishment shot me a woeful look as I ordered a decaffeinated coffee last night. I refused to commiserate with him. Ordinarily I'd be exceptionally thirsty near the conclusion of Lent, but this year is different. Yes... I cheated. I was too weak to pass on the opportunity to enjoy hand-pulled pints of bitter while in London last month. With glorious pubs on every fifth corner, I succumbed to temptation. No regrets.