I was rather proud of myself for not drinking for an entire 4 and a half days last week, before realizing that if that's considered an achievement, I might actually have a problem.
That all left me not particularly in the mood to drink during the weekend, but I still managed to drag myself to a couple of bars on Friday night, and then out for what I knew would be a big night on Saturday. You know you've taken a wrong turn somewhere when a girl you literally met a couple of minutes before is telling you about the aftermath of the first time she tried anal sex. It takes a lot to leave me speechless, but I simply had to end that conversation with "I'm sorry, but I am not discussing this with you right now.", and headed back to my friends.
I hung out with that marginally more civilized group for a few more drinks, moved onto a seedy club in the Cross, and then decided it was best that my night come to an end, since I was spending the next day with my family and didn't want to show up looking too awful. (I still ended up taking a two hour nap on their couch though.)
The highlight of the night that I'm actually thrilled I missed, however, was that apparently just after I left the group of girls I was with, one of them decided to get a meat pie (it's an Aussie thing), and another one reacted so badly to the smell that she started spewing everywhere. Even better, she informed me of this a couple of days later by writing it on my Facebook wall. And I thought I had no shame...