Now..... I have absolutely no issue with going into Central for dinner/drinks on a work night. I also have no issue with going 'out out' on a 'School night'.... so down with the Kool Kids lingo there.
Just had a little debate with Mother about the content of my blogs
MUM: "Ohhhhhh you're not writing another blog post about you being drunk are you??"
Me: **avoiding eye contact** "It's not for you to read!"
MUM: "You are very witty, but it would be nice to read something that's not about you throwing, chucking or puking up because you're soooo drunk"
ME: "WELL..... the posts are about my stupidities... which happen mostly when i'm drunk"
MUM: **Disapproving groan**
And now i've lost my train of thought. Perfect.
So my chums and I met at Southbank and had a quick drink - one of those mini bottles of wine each to be precise.
A mini bottle.... THAT I DIDN'T EVEN FINISH and yet still felt it go to my head. How embarrassing.
Off we trotted to Ping Pong - for those of you even more clueless than me. Ping Pong is a restaurant. We were most definitely NOT off to play a miniature game of tennis.
Lauren and I figured we may as well share a bottle of the house white, the name of which I had never heard of before and had great trouble pronouncing - cheapskates yes, but it was pleasant enough.
After we had ordered ours.... BAM..... the boys get their order in "Oh we'll share a bottle of the Pinot Grigio please" BASTARDS. A second bottle of this was to follow I might add.
The SECOND the drink started flowing a looming suggestion came from Jamie's mouth "Sooooo, anyone up for going out out?"
For those of you who have been living under a rock:
Out - Anywhere from Cinema to casual drinks
Out Out - Many Many drinks, dancing and falling into bed at 3/4/5am.
UH OH. The suggestion we had all been considering but were too afraid to bring up had been put out there for us to ponder. I have to admit Jamie's suggestion was pretty much shunned at first. We had all had a long day at work and were just out for some casual drinks, dimsum and chitchat with friends.
After we had consumed a table of Dimsum the general consensus was "Let the drinking continue!!"
We headed off in the direction of Soho..... the main topic of conversation on the Bakerloo line being this:
I LITERALLY spent about 10 minutes trying to explain this image to my comrades. I failed.
Once we reached Soho we wandered aimlessly until i finally pushed the group in the direction of Barrio Central. Moreeeeeeee drinking..... many toilet trips.... a strange encounter with a girl we went to school with and some TEQUILA shots - minus the lemon and salt much to my disgust.
As the time came for the last trains from Waterloo the group started dropping like flies. Just Lauren, Jamie and myself left.
"Let's go out out!!"
"But Coop, when is the last train??"
"Fuck trains Lozzo, YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE"
This was pretty much our conversation for the next 30 minutes until we finally made our way to Roxy Bar, in which we met up with Jamie's bumchum Toby, who had crashed our meal and then dropped us before Barrio.
I don't remember much about Roxy - cheap entry and cheap drinks was enough to please me.
After lots of dancing and drinks spilling the clock was fast approaching 2.30am.
Lauren and I made the decision to leave and attempt a journey home.
"Guys guys guys, just stay at Toby's with us. Toby and I can share (ohhh I bet you can.........BROMANCE)."
"I REFUSE to go into work tomorrow wearing the same outfit I wore today. I work for a fashion company for Christ's sake." - WISE. I think
So, here Lauren and I were, on Oxford Street attempting to find a bus home. Vigorously searching on TFL.com for our best option. I knew what I needed to do but I could not for the life of me figure out how to do it.
We hopped onto a bus ...... headed for Hammersmith. I do NOT live near Hammersmith. I quickly said goodbye to Lozzo, hopped off the bus and quite naively went on my way, alone.
I needed a number 6 bus. YES found one. Got on "I need to get to Trafalgar square please"
2 minutes into the journey I heard the bus driver shout down the bus to me "Sorry love, I just realised I am going the wrong way for you!!"
"FUCK...."
Jumped off the bus and back onto Oxford Street - ruddy long street.
Walked around practically in tears. Considering taking the boys up on their offer. My pride stopped me.
I flagged down a black cab, who I think only stopped because he felt sorry for me.
"I need to get to Trafalgar square to join the N87 bus route please"
HE GOT ME THERE.
Waited about 10 minutes at the bus stop, freezing my ass off, then the bus to Kingston came along. THANK GOD.
Whilst on the bus, still rather drunk and short on entertainment, I actually managed to make myself LOL for a good couple of minutes.
I get this a lot - when something tickles you so much even hours/days later you can think of it and still get a quivering lip or even let out a couple of chuckles.
My small guffaw was caused by an incident at dinner. The waiter had come over with the boys' wine and had offered to pour a glass for Toby, who had directed the waiter towards Jamie and politely said "Ladies first". Immediately, the waiter turned to pour Jamie a glass without even a lifting of the eyebrow or a questionable glance.
I found it INCREDIBLY hard to fight back the chortles on my bus home. Luckily the people surrounding me were dead to the world.
After a long and cold bus journey I got off at New Malden and got a quick taxi home. FINALLY made it into bed at 4.20am. ONE HOUR AND NINE MINUTES LATER ..... MY ALARM WENT OFF.
I was so scared to snooze it, for fear of falling back into an unwakeable slumber, I just lay there wide eyed and lifeless.
Not only was I having to get up and go to work on under 2 hours sleep I also had to go for a BLOOD TEST before work. OH GOSH I hate myself.
Went into the doctors. Sat down. Waited. "Rachel Cooper". "Hello". "Hi". "Please can you roll your sleeve up". SIGH. "Oh now, don't worry it won't hurt too much, you'll be fine"**. She took my blood. Put a plaster on my arm. "Right there you go, all finished promise". I took a curious glance at my blood. NO LIE - I swear I could see alcohol separation in there. I quietly walked out.
**I didn't have the heart to tell her my surliness was in no way down to a fear of needles. More down to the fact that I WAS HANGING LIKE HELL and did not want to vomit on her face.
Even now I have a hideous bruise on my arm from this Blood Test, I look like a crack head. Fabulous.
After a VERY dodgy train journey into work, the majority of which was spent clamping my lips together for fear of a stomach turn, I sat down at my desk - this was of course followed by a great deal of laughing and abuse from my colleagues.
The emails start rolling in......
UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I HATE MY LIFE.
UNTIL.................. Jamie, who works for a very well known (and strict) company sent the following email:
Moral of the story. YOLO - YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE.
AND..... there is always someone hanging worse than you.....
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