Hello Internet People!
so, after days of promising a post, I've finally done one. To be fair, i was so hungover yesterday, i didn't leave my bed so I'm not even sorry for that. St Paddy's day was crazy and took everything out of me, but i don't think I'll forget it any time soon.
Literally half an hour before the 7 o'clock train, i was persuaded to go out and my mum, who felt sorry for me because I've not left the house in 4 weeks decided to give me money for a one off night out. after running down for the train i met with my friend Kat who as usual was bubbly and a good laugh. we met up with our friend Danielle and Kat's who mates Matt and Jayson and went to hell on earth - my old work. It was good seeing the small amount of the original staff i worked with but it felt weird being in there again. And just so you guys know, if you go to Manchester for a night out, DO NOT go to Bierkeller, its overpriced and corrupt. we then went for one drink elsewhere before going to an Irish bar. It was packed and everyone were in good spirits so the mood in this place was pretty great.
5 pints of Guinness and a few more bars later, we left the Printworks and set off to go to '42's' a club on the other side of town. we got there at the most awkward time, as it had just opened and no one was really there, but the music was to my taste and everyone seemed like they were enjoying themselves. give it half an hour and people were flooding in and we were on the dance floor and Kat was trying to set me up with her best mate, who wasn't even there. This is where it got awkward - Jayson decided that the best idea to get me in a more upbeat mood was to walk up so a stranger and try and get him on to me. Seeing as i wasn't drunk enough not to care and i hadn't met him before, it put me in a bad mood. There was this really hot guy there who was perfect for me but i didn't really want Jayson harassing another lad and he moved about so much i couldn't really bump into him and spark a conversation (yes that's how i pull, I'm smooth you see). But anyway, it got to two o'clock and because i hadn't had a night out in months, i refused to leave. My friends left and i decided to make friends by pulling a random gay guy, as normal. My god I'm a slut. So, after spending the rest of the night out with a load of Geordie people, who were both dull and stupid, i walked to the bus stop and this is where the night went crashing down, and crashing hard.
The next bus wasn't until 5 so i had about an hour and a half to kill which was unfortunate, so i sat down and then my phone died. knowing it would only get worse, i should have anticipated the drunk guy with the bleeding knuckles to sit down next to me. he spent the next hour telling me about how much of a dick his mate is and we sort of made an unlikely friendship - now have him on twitter, so if you're reading this, Hi Aidan. 30 minutes to go until the bus and i started getting stomach cramps, i needed a shit more than anyone had needed one before. the worse thing was, there were no toilets open and i had a 2 hour journey home ahead of me. Let's just say that the rest of the journey was me hobbling like I'd shat myself (which i somehow didn't) and cars going past watching me in pain but only slowing down to Snapchat the wet-through idiot who looks like he'd shat him self. when i finally got home i gave birth.
The thing is, whenever i go for a night out, i leave the house thinking 'i can turn back now, save the money and spend it elsewhere' and at the end of the night, when I'm hobbling home at 6 in the morning i think 'why the fuck did i bother?', so i ask anyone who reads this to tell me - why do i still bother? i know you may have expected a more embarrassing story, seeing as normally get drunk and do something stupid, but this time i was just plain and simple not that drunk. Maybe Next time, eh? Oh, god why am i planning on a next time?
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