Yesterday was Epiphany. We met up at the Dyke Road Tavern for what has become known as Pizza Monday. The Dyke Road Tavern does a bogof on pizzas on mondays, making the pizzas slightly cheaper than the beer. It is one of those voluminous 1930's pubs that really ought to have been turned into a carvery, if it weren't for the many that had tried and failed in Brighton. A good place for an epiphany, tucked between a territorial army barracks, a museum of stuffed animals and a Tesco Express petrol station, on the road to the Devils Dyke where Aleister Crowley's ashes were scattered. But the place was empty, except for the four of us, scoffing our pizzas and looking at the menu for Burger Thursday with a conspiratorial eye. "I really am enjoying the fact that this Christmas and new year have been so uneventful" I thought, while standing alone on the kerb outside to have a smoke, when a blast of deafening music pulled up at the lights wrapped up in a Co-op delivery lorry with its windows open in the rain. The driver looked at me and did a small forelock tug, that made me smile, while the few brave souls huddling in a bus shelter were trying the best to complain to him with body language alone. As he pulled away I wished I knew what the name of the Jazz piece that he was playing was, it was just so fitting. When I went inside Alex had had an epiphany, lime juice and soda is apparently the perfect accompaniment to vege pizza, after a couple of san miguels. I will wait for my epiphany.

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