… drinking.
Tonight in honour of an old friends’ 23rd birthday. Like I need an excuse.
The flatmate who has money and I arrive at the bar early and began the nights liquid intake.
Two or three jars later birthday girl arrives with a throng of lovely ladies, some lovelier than others.
Two more beers. Cigarette. Double Sambuca. Next Bar.
A bar that pretends to be a club that is. Particularly badly at that.
The DJ is playing the Grease soundtrack and we wonder where we went wrong.
More double sambucas anyone?
Of course, but never again. Or maybe just a little one later.
Did someone mention little ones? Howsabout 3 for a tenner?
No change for £20, we’ll just take six.
A dry swallow while we wait for more liquid nourishment at an increasingly busy and sweaty bar.
By now 45 year old DJ has moved on to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack and to my horror my legs have begun jittering uncontrollably and my head nods me on to the dance floor where I caper and jive next to other similarly capering and jiving people.
This lady looks interested…
Am I?
Not really, but the amount of alcohol and supposed ecstasy in my system convinces me I am, and before Flatmate can save me from myself the move has been made and
me and said lucky lady are grinding away like we’re in a Snoop Dogg music video.
Cigarette. Cigarette. A another dry swallow. Drain the dregs from that last Kronenbourg. Pile into taxi. Back to birthday girls to continue the party.
Somehow my previous dancing partner manages to stowaway unnoticed and is there to greet me at the house and attaches herself.
Jazz cigarettes all round.
White lines. You know the song.
Two hours later, me and my new consort of sorts decide to sojourn to my house for a more intimate party of our own.
An unspecified time later.
I’m drifting into a drug induced dreamless coma/sleep wishing this random would stop taking all the space in my bed, get out and go home.
Awakened at 12pm the next day by Flatmate just returning from Birthday girls house still walking white lines and climbing up the walls.
Last nights catch and I take the time to get to know each other a little better by having some slightly more awkward than last night but slightly more gratifying sex.
I make some tea and endure her for another couple of hours while we get stoned and she watches ‘Shipwrecked 08’.
My mind was made up then that I would never speak to this girl again.
A taxi is called and I collapse on the sofa and spend the rest of the day watching Flatmate send forth exclamations of drivel and dribble about god knows what ‘til we both finally succumbs to sleep deprivation and cannabis intake.
