As any of you who have passed this prestigious milestone will know, around this time awakens a strange and unfamiliar urge in many young people. The urge to go round to your friends houses, persuade their older siblings to go out and get you booze, and get as shitwrecked as is humanly possible.
Eventually I turned 18 and the party moved into clubs, dark rooms with loud music where you think you can dance. But really you can't. These evenings invariably end up with me disgracing myself in one way or another, and waking up in a pile of broken memories and shame.
You would have thought that I'd have learnt by now, but unfortunately not. However this un-goldy repeating pattern has allowed me to cast my scientific eye on it, and breakdown the process that leads to me making a twat of myself.
There are several 'stages' and 'phases' involved. We will begin at the beginning.
The Predrinking Phase:
Stage 1: Initial alcohol
This is a very insidious stage. You have gone round your friends to predrink. You pour out some liquid death and mixer, and throw it down the hatch. Nothing happens. Repeat. Before long you will be at stage 2. (See Below)
Stage 2: Bullshit
In an IDEAL world, you would stay at this stage of drunk all night. You can no longer taste the alcohol, and instead are making very good lifelong friends with whoever is within earshot of you. The title of this stage comes from the subject matter of which you are discussing. Bullshit. Mountains of it. However you're so drunk that not only is what your saying making sense to YOU, it also seems to be having a positive impact your new friends. You're having some of the most profound conversations of your life. Your discussions have all the philosophical pannaz of a Morgan Freeman narration, and a wit that rivals that of Oscar Wilde. To YOU, your conversations feel like this:
Other people may view it differently:
After a couple of hours of this, it's off to the Club of choice to let the REAL bad decisions commence.
The Clubbing Phase
Stage 3: The Lethal Phase
***WARNING*** AT ALL COSTS AVOID THIS STAGE ***WARNING***
Even though you put down your last drink 15 minutes ago, you want more, you NEED more, you can totally handle more. Off you trot to the bar to buy some booze.
The full impact of this decision won't be felt for a couple of hours yet, so in the meantime, it's off to watch your primal instincts go into overdrive.
Stage 4: The extreme emotion Phase
At this point in our journey, your brain hits a road. Three pathways wind in front of it, each with it's own strange and marvellous outcomes. These pathways direct you into becoming a rampaging pinnacle of a singular emotion. For more information, see stages 4a-c.
4a: Sexy You
Dear GOD you're attractive. The fates were certainly smiling the day YOUR features were arranged you dapper son-of-a-bitch. And what's this? EVERYONE in the surrounding area is attractive too! Have you stumbled into heaven? Have you gone mad? How did you not notice that you were a God among Addonises until this moment?!? Quickly! Somebody needs to know! You spot someone. Sweet Jesus they're beautiful. You can lure him in with your Beyonce-esque dancing skills and sexy sexy eyes. Oh God they're coming over! Your not fussed. Your as cool as a cumber. In a fridge. With mad dancing skills like you've got, where else would they go? Your not going to beat around the bush. Who's got the time? Your Just going to tell it like it is.
4b: Angry You
A number of things can induce this stage. Maybe the drinks offer you thought was on, wasn't on. Maybe your mate got kicked out because he was drunk and pissing against the D.J. Maybe the taxi cost £1.50 more than you were expecting and you had to go to the cash point. Granted, all of these things are annoying, however when you this drunk, they're not just annoying. You feel like the Incredible Hulk must feel while wading through a Nazi-Paedophile convention. An unholy injustice has been dealt and the only way to combat it is to yell loud personal insults repeatedly.
4c: Sad You
This is an ethereal stage. It cannot be pinned down by any description or diagram, and it's causes are one of the seven wonders of the modern world. I can only humbly recreate the stages of events. Using Microsoft Paint.
Stage 5: The Reality Apocalypse
Remember all those drinks you ordered earlier? Me neither. Which is why this stage is so horribly confusing and upsetting. The shots that you consumed hours previously, the ones that have the power to take down a stallion have finally caught up with you. You go from this:
To feeling like you've been shoved in a washing machine and kicked down the stairs. Up becomes a strange concept and gravity is on the run.
It's like being on the least fun roller-coaster ever and YOU CAN'T GET OFF. Your only hope is to cling perilously to something and pray that the world rights itself sufficiently for you to get the fuck out of there.
Stage 6: Gorging
Once 3:30 am rolls around and if you managed to avoid stage 3, and by extension, stage 5, the lights will come on and you'll belt out Robbie Williams 'Angels' while clinging to a bunch of people you may or may not know. After this it's time to stagger out the doors and find a taxi. But an important stop must be made along the way:
I've never been able to fathom WHY indeterminant meat and fat congealed in a Styrofoam case with enough salt to give a walrus a stroke is so appealing at 4:00am. All I know its that it is. You would step on a puppy with cancer for a kebab at 4:00am.
That'll Do Pig
Stage 7: Pass Out
The END
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