It was an unusual party for me, I didn't know anybody there except Rupert, whose sole purpose in life is to attempt having sex with every woman on the planet at least once. Generally this means you don't get to talk to him much once he's got his target sorted out, so I was left to go and make new friends on my own. The crowd was mainly a work one, where everybody knew everybody else and so me and one other guy were the only ones that weren't part of the office. No problem, I started hooking into the gear in the toilets which I always found was a good conversation starter. There was a Spanish girl there, and a couple of Scandanavians, some French girls and a couple of local Dutch guys that had quite exciting and boring lives, all at the same time.
One line lead to another, followed by liberal servings of mixed spirit drinks, and before too long, I was pretty drunk and wired all at the same time. After about 2 hours I realised I was bored as hell, maybe it was the R&B they had put on as a constant drone that was the cause of it, because personally I can't stand this type of music. Or maybe it was that I just couldn't seem to socialise with anyone other than some drunk Swede that just didn't make any sense at all when he was talking at me. I was trying to work out if it was the tattoo on my left forearm that might be causing the crowd to react in a funny way, or if it was just me being self conscious about it. I also found out that Rupert had taken off and left without saying a word. I was a bit pissed off about that, but not something totally unexpected for him. So I decided to take off and head for home.
I detoured past Rupert's place, which was close by and found him there reduced to a state of relative speechlessness as he was going pretty hard at his own gear. I had a drink with him and asked him why the hell he left.
"Thought I'd go down to my local and see if any fanny was about". He said as if this explained it perfectly well.
Nothing came to mind as a reply, so I decided to drink more instead of continuing down that line of conversation. I'm not quite sure how long that went on, there was more lines and more drinks, but at some point I decided I wasn't going to stay there until the sun came up. Rupert and I had a bad habit of having some messy nights together that ended sometime around midday the day after we started. I was determined to not have that happen because the crash that followed was a nightmare to deal with. So I call a cab and told him I was leaving. All the while he keep trying to convince me to stay.
Padwanna!
* Part 3 to follow next.
The Repairing a flat bike tyre, the perfect hangover remedy; and a lesson life. Part 2 by Mentalechoes, unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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