Not for the faint hearted

I know that getting ridiculously drunk is neither big nor clever and by no means do I intend this blog to become a forum in which to try and outdo each other with even more outrageous drunken stories; However I was given a bit of a wake-up call after a particularly drunken office party last weekend and think it’s a lesson worth sharing.

Every year at the beginning of November one of our clients puts on a big lunch flowing with wine and champagne. As I am fully aware how these events tend to turn out, this year I alternated between wine and water and by about 4.00pm (I know that doesn’t sound too impressive but bear in mind the party started at 1.00pm!), I am still very much in control of my faculties and I start to notice that my friends are becoming increasingly merry and even my hardened drinker boss is making me look sober. Feeling slightly uncomfortable with this unusual scenario, I know only one way to rectify things: I quickly discard my sensible glass of water and begin to thoroughly enjoy myself. This was my first mistake.

I must admit the next section of this story is not entirely autobiographical as my memory fails me from this point onwards. I have, however, done the best I could do to piece the brief flashbacks together into some sort of coherent story.

It’s now about 8.30 and most people have left (including all the important people from work thank goodness). I am at the bar having a rather inappropriate conversation with the bouncer when I realise it’s time to go home.

And this is when I get one of those fabulous ideas you only ever get when you’re drunk. I know! I’ll phone so and so from last year who dumped me/ignored me/was in love with me… So I phone an ex-flame who has shown no interest in me for the last 5 months. I’m not sure exactly how this conversation went, but I think it was something like this:

Me: Hi.
Him: Hello, who’s this?
Me: ME.
Him: Huh?
Me: (probably in my squeakiest, most high pitched, drunken, screech), YOU DON’T KNOW WHO I AM?!!!
Him: Oh. Now I know.
Me: (Realising I actually have no idea why I phoned and that I have nothing to say to this man I remain silent).
Him: Was there anything you wanted?
Me: No.
Him: Ok then bye.
Me: Huh?!

Great! Having commited the faux pas of all faux pas...I’m now on the train struggling with a far worse dilemma. Not being sick!!
A kindly woman (I assume she’s kindly but as I mentioned earlier the details of this part aren’t very clear) asks me if I think I ought to get off the train if I’m not feeling well. I agree, get off at Queenstown road, puke (sorry, I did warn you) and re-alight the next train. The rest of the night is pretty uneventful, I get home, go to bed and wake up the next morning feeling just a tad under the weather.

I’m supposed to be going back to mum and dad’s the next day, so I go to call them to let them know I’ll be slightly later than planned. Except my phone isn’t in my bag, or my coat pocket, or in the discarded heap of clothes sprawled all over my bedroom floor…

Once I’ve come to terms with the fact that I have indeed lost my phone on another night out, explained to mum and dad that I’ll soon be on my way but can’t call because yet again my phone’s been stolen from my bag (I know, I know, terrible thieves in London!) I’m about to leave the house when my mum rings me back. She’s received a call from a lady who found my phone.
She told my mum I had to get off the train to be sick, and I left my phone and my glove on the train.
Mum: How did she know you were going to be sick?
Me: I er told her I wasn’t feeling well.
Mum: She sounded foreign, where was she from?
Me: (Absolutely no idea there even was a woman let alone acknowledged her nationality) Uh, France?
Mum: (Clearly not amused with my irresponsible behaviour and vague attempts to redeem myself), well she’s handed it in to Richmond station. I have her number so you can phone her to say thank you.
As grateful and relieved as I am that the lady was kind enough to hand my phone in, it’s through gritted teeth that I phone her to say ‘thank you’ when what I really want to say is: Why on earth did you have to tell my mother?!!!