You might have seen the ‘Me at 21’ trend doing the rounds on Instagram a few weeks back. I knew I had a load of pictures from my 21st back in 2003, so I dabbled with my scanner (which seems to have inexplicably fixed itself after a period of inoperability) and dug out a few pictures from my the night, taken with a disposable camera.
At the time, I’d been texting a few mates asking if they could make it out, but no-one seemed to be responding. My mum had organised a family meal in Ashton, so I knew I at least had that booked in. I walked in and found 4 of my girl mates waiting for me! The whole week, it transpired, Mum had been coordinating with one of my mates to get everything organised. Everything was on the hush!
We reminisced over college, the memories we had, the fun times. The time when Sal was having a serious conversation with the staff in the office, but the class clown was pressing his face up against the glass and blowing air so he looked like Aardman’s Wallace from Wallace and Gromit. The time Claire dressed me up as a Viking for a drama about the year 1000. Or the time I got bollocked in front of the whole media department for ‘interviewing’ a giant plastic hotdog (putting on a fake Irish accent as the hotdog character explaining how he’d welcome in the new millennium).
Halcyon days.
Then we went to Ashton’s Atomic bar and got pissed.
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