The endless wedding

The first thing people ask when you tell them you attended a Sikh wedding is "Was there booze?" This is just plain ignorant, do some research for God and the Ten Gurus sake. There was enough booze there to mash the four hundred odd people attending into a giant alcoholic cottage pie. Tray followed tray, crammed to the edges with pints, chivas, bacardi, whatever you fancied. I warned my table not to overdo it with the first course, but did they listen? Noooooooo. Between courses, young and old staggered onto the dance floor and threw shapes to some belting bhangra. Then more food arrived, then more booze, then more bhangra, thrn mroe fude, thrn mre buzee, thin mere bunga, tghvn mghjr fvdd, zzzzzzzz. Mr.Goeey Cree sensibly ordered a cab for our hotel for 12.30, giving us a clear window of escape from this excessive loop. Naturally we made our way straight to the bar because obviously a night cap was in order. No officer, I don't have a drink problem, honesht.

Many thanks and best of luck to the happy couple, especially since I hear they're packing the whole thing up and doing it all again in Leeds. I didn't notice a new liver on your John Lewis list, but I'll put in an order for you anyway.

B