A fancy dress party marked the coming of another birthday. Another year older...Another year wiser? Mine and Lindsey's birthdays fall within 3 days of one another so, why not have one big night of too many alco-pops. As the blue liquid trickles down its well-wetted path, I feel the first hint of a messy night. WKD Blue is the drink of choice, but after so many grams of sugar, one must move on to another means of refreshment. After a few all-to-sweet drinks at my local public house the party of fancy dress participants make their way to the bus stop to ride like royalty into town. Together we are 1 leper, 1 Lone Ranger, 1 Ant, 1 Ribena Berry, and 1 Embodiment of Anthrax. We had to go as something that began with the first letter of our name, so that makes me either the ant or the Anthrax. I'm sure you will guess which one I was. Once we arrived at the venue of drunkenness known as Metro's (short for 'The Metropolitan') we continued our quest for alcohol. The specifics of my drinks is not significant but once I felt my stomach begin to churn and curse me I knew that my time at Metro's was to be limited.
Rock music both good and wretched exploded from over-sized speakers throughout the sweaty nightclub whose upstairs toilets leaked through the floor above just enough to present the area near the bar with the fragrance of sewer, therefore, buying a drink was not only challenging because you had to stagger to the bar dodging other drunken patrons, but you had to withstand the tormenting odor. The two-for-one offer on drinks became less of a perk and more of a punishment. The rule of the evening was that every party participant must stay until the hour of 3 a.m. at which time the establishment distributed toast to all the survivors. (A peculiar tradition which supposedly makes a hangover more bearable the next day, but most often sees its way back up somewhere between 20 and 30 paces from the door. Franz Ferdinand filled the air on three different occasions, much to my delight, along with a myriad of other well-decent tunes. Floating from dance floor to chair, dance floor to chair, to bathroom, to dance floor, etc... I enjoyed the company of some friends from drama school as well as my fellow fancy dressers. Several hours were filled with conversation and laughter and then the chair beckoned and my ass was firmly planted for the remainder of my stay at the bar. As my head lolled from side to side, my eyes scanned the room. Lindsey had disappeared and I later found she had been made to drink a cocktail from a man's trousers, my friends from drama school had also deserted the desolate tunnel of sin. I had no other choice but to break the one rule of the night. I would not be staying for toast. Slowly my body lifted from the chair and I passed sweaty person after sweaty person in a glossy-eyed state of distress. I knew that if I did not get some fresh air in the immediate future, I would be visibly ill all over the floor and probably walls of this place. Up the stairs and out the door of the club I began my trek home. Along the way I was harassed by one fellow who threatened to do me bodily harm with a knife and narrowly escaped conversation with a man who had just been released from a lengthy interrogation at the police department. When I collected my sorts, I phoned my friend Ryan who had been at Metro's earlier on. I proceeded to his house and sat their with him and a mate called Keri until I felt the need to go and visit the porcelain monument. I'm quite proud of the fact that I never actually vomited seeing how it is the custom of those here to get the birthday boy righteously pissed. I fell asleep for a couple of hours at Ryan's house before waking and walking on to my own abode. By 5 a.m. I was asleep. An eventful birthday it was and full of humorous memories. I wonder what 21 will have to offer...
Rock music both good and wretched exploded from over-sized speakers throughout the sweaty nightclub whose upstairs toilets leaked through the floor above just enough to present the area near the bar with the fragrance of sewer, therefore, buying a drink was not only challenging because you had to stagger to the bar dodging other drunken patrons, but you had to withstand the tormenting odor. The two-for-one offer on drinks became less of a perk and more of a punishment. The rule of the evening was that every party participant must stay until the hour of 3 a.m. at which time the establishment distributed toast to all the survivors. (A peculiar tradition which supposedly makes a hangover more bearable the next day, but most often sees its way back up somewhere between 20 and 30 paces from the door. Franz Ferdinand filled the air on three different occasions, much to my delight, along with a myriad of other well-decent tunes. Floating from dance floor to chair, dance floor to chair, to bathroom, to dance floor, etc... I enjoyed the company of some friends from drama school as well as my fellow fancy dressers. Several hours were filled with conversation and laughter and then the chair beckoned and my ass was firmly planted for the remainder of my stay at the bar. As my head lolled from side to side, my eyes scanned the room. Lindsey had disappeared and I later found she had been made to drink a cocktail from a man's trousers, my friends from drama school had also deserted the desolate tunnel of sin. I had no other choice but to break the one rule of the night. I would not be staying for toast. Slowly my body lifted from the chair and I passed sweaty person after sweaty person in a glossy-eyed state of distress. I knew that if I did not get some fresh air in the immediate future, I would be visibly ill all over the floor and probably walls of this place. Up the stairs and out the door of the club I began my trek home. Along the way I was harassed by one fellow who threatened to do me bodily harm with a knife and narrowly escaped conversation with a man who had just been released from a lengthy interrogation at the police department. When I collected my sorts, I phoned my friend Ryan who had been at Metro's earlier on. I proceeded to his house and sat their with him and a mate called Keri until I felt the need to go and visit the porcelain monument. I'm quite proud of the fact that I never actually vomited seeing how it is the custom of those here to get the birthday boy righteously pissed. I fell asleep for a couple of hours at Ryan's house before waking and walking on to my own abode. By 5 a.m. I was asleep. An eventful birthday it was and full of humorous memories. I wonder what 21 will have to offer...
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