D.O.P.-T.

[weofodthignen]

The first stripe of dawn in the sky, and after an unusually busy Saturday night (especially for, ahem, whipped-cream chargers) things have gone utterly quiet as they usually do on Sunday morning. However, half a dozen cars are parked towards the rival establishment three doors down, which closes at midnight. I wonder whether one of their staff is hosting a party inside. Not going to go and snoop.