I think I’ve reached a plateau in my party life, I don’t really see how it can get any crazier than this. Then again, I shouldn’t say things like that. Last friday was almost too epic. The evening started out innocently enough, having some civilised beers with my office in Shoreditch before it quickly snowballed when I went over to Glen’s. Had champagne, wine and vodka with some of T&G’s friends and got quite adequately shitfaced.
Then Tommy’s friend, Edward, arrived and decided he wanted to go clubbing cos it was his first night in London, so the two of us went to Heaven. I picked up several gay boys – fag hag on form, ok – for him and convinced one of them to come back to Ed’s room. On our way back to his hotel, I got stopped by two Spaniards asking me for cycling directions to Barcelona (like fo’ real!). Ed left me to go have sex so I ended up talking to the two for 30 minutes outside his hotel. I think I pretty much agreed to get a bicycle and join them.
THEN, two of the hotel bartenders came out for a smoke and ended up joining our conversation and offering me some free croissants. Eventually the Spaniards left (we made plans to meet the next day once I got my bicycle – hur), and I went into the lobby. Spent fckn forever calling Ed, but he wasn’t answering (I wonder why). I even got one of the bar boys to find his room number, but then I got sidetracked by free alcohol. Lol Ended up drinking at the bar with the bartenders for the next few hours. More gin, wine & tequila. Srsly.. shitfaced.
Then one of the bartenders gave me a tour of the hotel. We went to see the giant kitchen and waltzed in the ballroom. Fucking. Random (but on a side note, giant kitchens = such a wet dream!). Think I eventually found my way back to Glen’s place around 7 in the morning and it was such a fckn mission stumbling around Covent Garden cause I forgot where his place was. I AM SO CLEVS. Slept abt 2 hrs before I decided to make my drunken way home, which had to be one of the most painful journeys of my life.
How do I always get myself into situations like this?
Drinks at Glens!
Gulliver, only like the cutest guide dog in the world!!
The two Spaniards I met.
More tequila!!! (I don’t really remember taking this photo)
The other two bartenders. In retrospect, I think only one of them was a bartender and the other 3 were waiters. It did not occur to me at the time that there was anything weird about one small bar having 4 bartenders.
And a bonus:
Priya and I agreed that the more or bigger your bruises are the morning after, the better the night was.