The Church Saved Me!

No, I haven't turned into a Born-Again Christian, I'm talking about a different type of church altogether. Those from the Southern Hemisphere who have lived in London at one time or another have most probably visited The Church on a Sunday. A venue with sawdust on the ground, where you can only buy beers in threes, where strippers and boat races serve as entertainment. A place where debauchery reigns free, where men lure women into kissing by wearing t-shirts that proclaim "Hold my beer" on the front, "While I snog your mate" on the back (Bones and I fell for that one - Bones held some bloke's beer, while I was violated).
Corbo, Bones and I went for a "Boys" Day Out while their ladies were out of town a few weekends ago. Scared of losing my shit I transferred my Switch card (debit card), my Licence and my travelcard into a seperate wallet and headed off unencumbered by a handbag. We had a messy day. Well, I had a messy day which consisted of spending a great deal of time on my butt; Converse All Stars have slippery soles. Long story short: I never got around to transferring my essential cards back into my regular wallet. A good thing, as last Wednesday night I had my wallet stolen from my bag while enjoying a post-work beverage (or three) in the pub next door to the theatre. I actually caught the guy doing it and confronted him but he'd already given it to this girlfriend accomplice who had run off with it. Sucked in because I only had 3 quid on me. However, I had my Australian cards and UK credit card in the wallet. Pete, a fellow Aussie who runs the pub was an absolute angel and called his mum is Oz to find out the phone numbers for my banks back home. Shella who was at work in Sydney was also wonderful, and got straight on the case for me. Thank you Shell! Anyways that ill-fated trip to The Church on the previous Sunday really saved me - I still had id, access to cash and was able to get home. Thanks be to the fat MC with the socks stuffed down his pants, my new messiah!