“I’m off to Glastonbury.”
“What?”
“Glastonbury. The festival.”
“Glastonbury? Really? You? Really?”
“Uh huh.”
“You got tickets and everything?”
“Yes. Tickets and all the stuff. Tent and sleeping bags.”
“You’re going to Glastonbury? You?”
“That’s right. In June.”
“Isn’t it a bit rough? For you, I mean. What about all the mud and everything else? And you’ve heard about all the toilets and all that? It’s all a bit...yucky.”
“Don’t know. Just see what it’s like when we get there. Sure we’ll be ok.”
“We? Who are you going with?”
“Our Amy and her best mate.”
“Two 18 year olds? You’re brave!”
“They’ll be fine. They’re quite sensible. Fairly sensible.”
“And you’re really going? You? Have you ever been before?”
“Yes. I’m definitely going. Never been before. Not really sure what to expect though. Do you think I’m too..”
“What? Old? ”
“Well, yes.”
“No. Don’t think so.”
“What do you mean, “Don’t think so?” ”
“Well, you’re not fifty yet, so…”
“No, but close enough. I’ve been thinking that I should really give it go before I really hit middle age and in 18 months that’ll be it according to you. Hit fifty and the boat will have sailed.”
“Not exactly, but don’t you think it’s really for kids?”
“Hey, don’t you worry about me. I’m down with the kids.”
“Of course you are. So down.”
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