So, I pick you up at the airport. Old old friends, but, hell, it's been a while and then some.
You get to be the one coming out from backstage, all bleary-eyed, but wide awake and soaking it all up and with that darting look as your eyes flick around looking for something, someone familiar.
I guess I have the advantage, naturally, as I see you waaay before you see me and I get to watch you in that detached way you can really look at someone who hasn't a clue you're watching.
No wheelie suitcase, you, but a smallish backpack, and I say hello and smile do that shoulder-patting hug thing and I offer to carry something to the station, but it's just pleasantries, and I've already bought the tickets, so we just hop straight onto the waiting train.
And we sit, face to face, by the train window. This is my show, so I ask about the journey, and you tell me a series of anecdotes, great detail, funny, about the mix-up when the woman behind the counter asked if you'd packed you bag yourself and you misunderstood and said, no, and ended up having to open it up for a thorough inspection, and about the rotund old chap on the plane who fell asleep with his head on your shoulder and I laugh, and it's cool.
I waffle on about things through the window. England's green and pleasant land and you just lap it all up and I crack open the cokes I bought and tell you to take a sip so I can top it up from the half jack of damn fine Polish vodka I have in my bag. And we drink and any nerves are gone.
The journey takes about an hour and it's already halfway through, and we have one of those familiar awkward silences, which is really just a pause in the laughter, and you look at me, kinda quizzically like, and I feign a shyness that's only half there and you kick my shoe with your foot.
Now, if there were any doubts about which way we were headed, I have none now, and I'm thinking that's half an hour already gone and I dart my eyes towards the door where there's that gap between carriages with the toilet cubicles and you are one step ahead and when I casually stroll off there, you are just a step behind.