Seeing as I spend a fair bit of my life on the sauce I’ve decided to document the top five levels of drunkness I experience so you don’t have to make the same mistakes. Or more likely you can read about them, think they sound awesome and try them yourselves, it’s your call.
1. Fresh To Death
Normally just post shower, you look good, you smell good, the beer is cold and pre-drinks beckons. This is the one or two can mark, coherent speech is as easy as ever (you’re still not particularly good at it though), you can walk around without bumping into shit (most of the time) and you’re only seeing one drink in your hand.
2. A Bit Hazy
Post pre drinks, you fucked up on that game of ring of fire and the dirty pint was yours to consume in all its gut wrenchingly horrific beauty. You already know which one of your mates is most likely to end up an ambulance job due to them giving it the biggun when it came to shot roulette and your mouth still tastes of something other than sickly sweet pints.
3. Yeah I’ll Have Some Shots
Uh oh, you’re not quite sure who’s idea it was to buy a rack of shots each but at the time it seemed like a grand one. One shot rack later and you’re not sure who’s idea it was to get a round of Sambuca's in but fuck it why not you’ve only passed out from drinking Sambuca like 5 times, this time will be fine. One round of Sambuca's later and you’re dry heaving and you almost light your breath on fire when you go for a fag, it’s good crack though, well it would be if any of you could understand what each other are saying.
4. I Fucking Love This Song! And Everyone!
The witching hour has begun. At this stage you’re stumbling around the dance floor in a drunk hypnotic state enhanced by the pulsing strobe lights. You grab pretty much anyone with a vaguely recognisable face and chat to them like they’re your best mate. Luckily they’re also in the same boat and so return the nonsensical rambling. At this point you’re drinking ANYTHING you can get your hands. Your mates been brought a whiskey and coke but they don’t like whiskey. Neither do you. But you still neck it despite this. In desperate situations this is when minesweeping begins and you really are rolling the dice when it comes to that dangerous game.
5. This Pavement Is Comfier Than My Bed
Game over man, game over. If you’re lucky enough to have not been thrown out for chundering in the barmaids face you’re severely blinded as the lights come on and horribly disorientated by the sudden heart-breaking stop of the music. You stumble out into the cold night air like a chimp that's spent its every waking moment in a cage since the day it was born being released into the wild. You’re confused and overwhelmed, nothing looks familiar and you are surrounded by loud animalistic noises as people fall into roads and start necking in doorways. If you’re one of the lucky ones you manage to follow your sense of smell to the bright lights of the nearest takeaway and take on some life saving kebab meat or fried chicken or you just about collapse into a taxi and are dropped off safe and sound. If you’re one of the unlucky ones your homing beacon kicks in and you’re led on a long cold harrowing journey filled with dark shadows and haunting noises until you reach your door, scorchingly thirsty and unbelievably tired. If you’re one of the really unlucky ones you wander off into the night with a malfunctioning homing beacon and most likely end up in a bone chillingly damp doorway huddled against the brickwork sobbing for your mum or face down in the nearest puddle. These are the nights that live on in legend, for all the wrong reasons.