On Thursday evening last, while finishing off dinner before heading out, my flat-mate, Aroa, told me not to get too drunk that night. In this respect, she is much like my mom – who says the same thing – although Aroa has good reason to say so. I once woke up one morning, came into the kitchen, where Aroa was making a coffee, and told her I couldn’t remember getting home that night. She told me the reason for this was that the previous evening she’d opened the door to Ibane, Gorka & another fellow drinker from Bar Nikol, who were carrying me.
As bad as waking up with no memory of the previous night, there are more unnerving scenarios to open your eyes to, such as the time I awoke to a wall & ceiling I didn’t recognise. Things only became clear upon hearing giggling from the other side of the room, where I turned to see my friend Joyce laughing by a kitchen sink at my befuddled facial features. As she made breakfast in her kitchen-cum-living room she filled in the blanks of the previous evening. She told me she’d bumped into me in Cheers – a bar on Regent’s street – where I’d been celebrating, after getting a job at Baring’s Asset Management. She said that after I’d bought her group drinks, I promptly let go of the bar counter I’d been holding onto and fell to the floor. She said herself and another friend, Thelma, had picked me up off the floor, carried me out of the bar to a taxi and then to their flat in the Nurses’ quarters of Guy’s hospital.
Fortunately, since that time, I’ve not had too many occasions of waking up to be told I was legless the previous evening. However, after the dress-down from my flat-mate, I put my nose to her coffee and took a good sniff; from that long drawn-out whiff, I concluded that to avoid any future memory and leg lapses during a night out, beforehand I need to put some grub in the belly, and when on the sauce, to sup slower.
(c) Poraic Cahill
About Odd Life:
From a German man accusing his ex-girlfriend of attempted murder by use of her 38DD breasts, to a 107 year old having a shoot-out with the Arkansas SWAT police, the author Poraic Cahill chronicles the strange & bizarre he encounters in Odd Life.
Order your copy online here.