The Perils of Alcohol

20 May

I would like to think, that given the chance, I would be able to give my fifteen year old self some sage advice, should the opportunity present itself. I have however, managed to prove myself wrong, after a foray into town with two of my favourites.

Charlotte, freshly back from travelling, was coming for a night out with me and RoCo, and we were excited. So excited, it seemed, that we forgot to have any dinner. This mistake would rear its ugly head later on. We headed out to the Slug and Lettuce, a classy establishment, not known for its binge drinking, and proceeded to each order a glass of wine. Civilised, you may think. It would have been had we not attacked, in a teen fashion, a bottle of wine and a small bottle of rum before we left the house.

So we sat and chatted in the bar, although this is all pieced together between the three of us. We do not actually remember, but apparently managed to use the self timer on the camera to document the evening. Cue first photo clue: the three of us sat at at a table, all three of our wine glasses laying flat on the table.

We headed off, and walked past the grotty club in the town. Luckily, our drunk logic negated that we didnt attempt entry, as “the queue didnt look long enough”. Sensible, yet completely illogical.

We headed to another bar, where my wise friends decided, upon purchasing their bevvy, that they had had too much to drink. I on the other hand, didnt display this foresight, and drank theirs too. Sleepiness set in, and we headed home in a taxi, tired.

This is where I made my mistake. I closed my eyes, and felt that familiar wooziness as your body realises quite how much alcohol it has imbibed. I opened my eyes, to try and steady myself, but it was too late. The fine for vomiting in a taxi is £60, so my drunken mind thought it a good idea to quietly throw up in my handbag. Sensible, but I had failed to remove the contents of my satchel sized purse. The girls looked concerned, and we disembarked as quickly as possible. I spent the night wrapped around the toilet, cursing the fact that I was just about to hit 24 and was behaving like a teenager.

The next morning, I had to start a recovery operation. My passport has been saved, but sadly the ear phones, camera and handbag had to be thrown away. In all honesty, it would have been cheaper for me to have been sick in the taxi.

I spent the whole of the bank holiday in bed, after being laughed at by mother (who picked me up in the morning, oh the shame!) and boyfriend, and sadly wondering how I was reaching the hump of my twenties and still acting like a fifteen year old in a skate park.

So the moral of the story is, that should technology make it that my fifteen year old self should call to ask advice, I will advise my colleagues to tell her that I am in a meeting!


One Response to “The Perils of Alcohol”

  1. Mitch March 18, 2011 at 10:31 pm #

    Ouch! LOL!

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