The Evils of Alcohol

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So no, JR seeing things from my point of view, we stayed and continued our drinks of Vodka and Lift, interspersed with shots. By about 10 o’clock, we were out of Vodka, and so moved onto beer. Which, I needn’t say, is absolutely horrible after the sweet mixes we’d been having.

We caught the bus around 10.30, I think the earliest I’ve ever headed into town. By this stage, we were quite gone. The first thing Jordan wanted to do upon getting to town was, of course, the vertical bungie on Taranaki Street. Twice.

I kept my feet nicely planted on terra firma, there was no way I was going up there, even drunk.

A calmer game of pool followed, with horrible playing done by myself, the alcohol having impaired my coordination. I just generally suck, I’ll admit it, but this was wore than usual. I did pull off one shot, and sink one ball, but for the rest, I often missed the white ball, taking me several attempts just to pull off my shot.

It was time for a few more drinks. I vaguely remember having the giggles because I had the hiccups, and they wouldn’t go away. I was walking around beating my chest, in the hopes of making it stop.

Strangely enough, I got denied entrance to Coyote. I was apparently too drunk. The bouncer, after having let Jordan and JR in, thought I looked pissed (which I was) and asked me how many I’d had to drink that night. I was quite taken aback, and so stupidly replied “Oh, I dunno, not too many eh” which would only have reinforced his opinion. To test me out, he asked me to walk to a pole and back. Which I did, and quite convincingly I thought. But not good enough for him. Apparently, I looked a bit off balance! How he came to this conclusion, I don’t know, perhaps it was because I almost walked into some other people, but that was their fault. So off to Burger King it was for me, to “sober up”. We sat around for about ten minutes, didn’t even bother getting any food, the queue was so long, and went back. The bouncer was still hesitant, but the combined powers of persuasion of the three of us managed to convince him to let me in, with the promise that I’d take it easy.

As soon as we were in, to the bar we went. Vodka and Red Bull’s all around, with a shot of tequila and Jaigermeister each. Definately taking it easy.

Next, on to Shooters, where more drinks were bought and ingested, another vodka and Red Bull, follwed by a vodka and pineapple juice. The copious amount that I had drunk finally caught up with me, and I headed for the toilets, where I remarked, a little surprised, that I was being sick. Strange how you mind can slow down, and not realise exactly what’s going on.

I must have been in there for a while, because Jordan called my cellphone to find out where I was.

Upon meeting back up with them, I found that another vodka and red bull had been poured for me, but I knew that if I touched it, things would not go down very well. They would most likely come up. Jordan tried to talk me into it, but I was physically incapable of drinking it. It repulsed me to even think about it.

By this stage, as is obvious, I was feeling quite shit, and was quite relieved when the bouncer came over and told us that the bar was closing, and it was time for us to leave.

We walked down Courtenay Place for a bit, and stopped to sing along with a busker somewhere along the way. He seemed quite amused, and people kept joining in, there would have been another 3 or 4 still there when we finally left.

Unfortunately, JR somehow got into some kind of altercation with some dude. While we were singing away, apparently he was being smart to a guy opposite him, despite not saying a word. He took offence, and started mouthing off. I tried to mediate the situation, saying that nothing had happened, and that we would just go our way, and he could go his. He didn’t like my interferance, and said “Hey, sideburns, this has nothing to do with you. Stay out of it, or I’ll take you too, sideburns.” Shocked, I abrubtly put him in his place, informing him that they were not sideburns, but part of the whole beard that I’m cultivating.

We just walked away, despite his offers to take on all three of us (although he would not have stood a chance, Jordan and JR were each a lot buffer than he. For my part, whether I fought or not would probably not have changed anything in the slightest). Finally, we caught a taxi home, and crashed.

Jordan woke me up at about 8.30. I still felt completely pissed, and did not want to get up. He and JR left about half an hour later (not sure how safe he would have been to drive all the way back to Napier, really). I went back to bed, and slept for a good five hours more.

Yet still, I feel like crap.

One of the highlights of the night was Jordan’s rendition of the David Brent Dance, from The Office. Arms flaying everywhere, mouth set in determination, and the rhythm uttering forward, he did a great job.

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