I've made a terrible mistake.
Apparently, a long time ago, I agreed to join Mrs Yc to go see a singer-songwriter-cute-girl-sings-about-life-and-love-kinda-thing, this very Thursday. Not sure how this 'agreement' ever got agreed upon in the first place, I can only assume; a) I was drunk at the time, b) Mrs Yc was nude - or promised to be, c) aliens or d) all of the above.
Furthermore. Apparently it's a small venue and it's supposed to be a close, snuggly and whatever-else-yucky atmosphere.
Feck it. I'll just get thrown out for shouting at me phone... and wake up divorced...