Some of the funniest stories I know are about people and the crrrrrrrazy stuff they've gotten up to under the influence of alcohol. I myself am no exception, and, to be honest, I've probably done more to continue the stereotype of humorous drunken behaviour than the average Joe.
If you're reading, Joe - hey pal - don't take it so hard.
The orgy of door-destruction in my first year flat...the time I managed to swap an uprooted tree for a packet of crisps -and managed to keep the tree...inviting the 250-strong audience of a comedy gig back to my 'no-more-than-24-people-due-to-fire-regulations' flat...buying champagne for everyone...trying to pull the wrong twin...convincing the bouncer we were the band 'Gay Dad'...strip pontoon... waking up in Coventry...karaoke...
The list goes on.
There are times when these stories can be wheeled out, and other times when conversation steers rapidly past them and you don't get the opportunity to regale present company with the tale. If the gap is there, you take it. If not, there might be time for a brief internal smile at the memory, before leaping back into the conversation.
What happened to all the yarns I never got to hear?
Okay - imagine - there's a free bar just over there, and everyone's listening.
What's the story?
Update: So what this continued silence is saying to me, is;
"Drunk, Stuart? Who - us?"
Imagine me giving a brief moment of stony stare before nodding manically.
Come on...
I've already told my tale in gut-wrenching, excessive detail - right here - http://pixeldiva.typepad.com/pix/2003/09/the_worst_rebel.html
Ah yes, Pix, I read that when you first posted it!
Fine detail, indeed...!
I was prodded awake by the transport police on a Paris metro station once. The bar shut at 3am - the metro opens at 5.30am - I was woken up at 7.30am. I have no memory of what happened after 1am.
when i was fifteen, there was this guy that i'd fancied rotten (to borrow a phrase) from afar for months. the night we actually met, we got in a shot drinking contest (and by 'shot,' i mean 'highball glass'); eight shots of vodka and ten minutes later, i embarked upon my grand mission to get to know the porcelain god really well. my friends took turns sitting in the bathtub and reading me hamlet, to keep me awake. i did end up dating the object of my affection; either he had a real caretaking complex or i am JUST THAT CHARMING when i'm off my head.
okay, that's not really a particularly good story, but i find it amusing...and okay i'll stop now.
Jez - Eeek. They were armed, I take it? Jeez. (That's 'Jeez' as in 'Jeez-us', not 'Jez' stretched...)
Shiv - I would root for 'JUST THAT CHARMING'.
Anyone else? More please!
Back at uni, I once woke up in the first floor shower in my halls of residence. I was fully clothed, soaking wet and found the word REDRUM scrawled in red lipstick across the dirty white tiles above my head.
Oh, and I had a hangover.
Wow...I guess my favorite one that doesn't involve much in the way tragedy would be the night I drank Tequila ALL NIGHT, I do not exagerate to any degree here, the amount consumed should have put me into at least a black out...but no, I was a professional. At dawn my friend wanted me to drive her down the street to her boyfriends dorm...so we jumped in my MG Midget, with the sun coming up,the top was down, hammered out of my mind when suddenly the song on the radio was Classical Gas...it just all lined up in my head into the perfect moment so I floored it as we approached a hard left turn, at the very last moment I cranked the wheel hard to the left and the car spun around in two complete circles then I popped the clutch the car stopped and I looked at my friend and screamed "NIRVANA MAN!!" This was a reference to my state of mind and our survival not the band as this was 1984.
Bloody hell.
Waking up stark naked on a sun lounge by the communal pool in the apartment complex I was living in at the time in Brisbane with a black and gold g-string (not mine) on my head. To this day I do not recall how.
Now that's impressive.