As you can see from the title this post isn't going to be pleasant haha. On Saturday night we all made the decision that since we hadn't been out with each other in a good while, some friends far longer than others, that we were all going to go out together to Belfast on Saturday and get drunk and I'm not going to lie I was game for it. Work had been hellacious over the last 14 days, I'd been working flat out non stop and barely had any free time for myself, I hadn't seen some friends in ages like I say and most surprisingly I realised that I hadn't drank alcohol since the start of July which was almost 60 days ago. It was also the last day of the Summer essentially so with all those factors combined I thought it was only fair that I'd go on a night out where I'd drink a little and enjoy myself but I was wrong on so many different levels.
The night itself was good, don't get me wrong. I really liked seeing Darren, a friend of mine who I hadn't seen since before Summer really started, it was great hanging with Jamie since we've not been gyming it together for a while and it's always good to see Ryan, one of my closest friends that I've ever made in my life but as those of you who follow me on Twitter over at @heathyheath_ know it didn't take me very long to deviate from my plans of having a nice quiet night. Because everybody else was heading up a bit later on in the one car I decided to meet up with my old friend Darren in town first of all before getting our bus up to Belfast and after catching up with Darren it turned out that he had weed with him and we shared a joint and both got really high. By the time Ryan had climbed onto the bus I was bouncing and after about an hour or two of drinking I got really drunk which was fun at the time but made me sort of lose every ounce of what sense I had remaining.
By the end of the night it was apparent that since there was only five seats in Jamie's car, and since Darren just had to take a short fifteen minute walk back home it meant that Ryan and I were going to have to get a taxi but for some reason it took us a long time to order anything. I guess that Ryan and I just got sort of lost in the city you know? We walked around for hours on end just talking, occasionally going to get a coffee and chain smoking like we were 40 a day habitual smokers, which I might add effectively ruined my entire Summer spent not smoking as well. Eventually at four in the morning after several hours of good conversation we decided to order a taxi and that was where things really took a turn for the worst.
The taxi driver was an Asian man, from Pakistan or somewhere which I have no problem with in the slightest but it caused there to be a bit of a language barrier between us where he couldn't understand me and vice versa, he took fifteen pounds off me for petrol for the taxi promising to take it off the balance I owed him for the taxi, when he dropped Ryan off I had no idea how to direct him out of the housing estate Ryan lived in and we ended up driving around for a bit, then the road to my town was closed so I had to get him to use his satellite navigation system which he could have did in the first place to take us on this long and windy massive route to get into the town.
When we arrived in town too further disaster struck. My stomach, host to the dirty tar, nicotine and poisons from the cigarettes, countless coffees and a greasy donar kebab started giving me some serious bother. I had to take deep breaths in and out of my nose to keep myself stabilised but the pain in my gut didn't get any better and if anything intensified and I basically pleaded with the driver to stop the taxi before opening the door and then proceeding to throw up in the middle of the street! Fortunately since it was nearly five in the morning the street was absolutely dead and nobody but the taxi driver seen me throwing up. While wiping what was possibly tears from my eyes I told the taxi driver that I was going to just walk up from where we were to no real protest from him after just seeing what I did to the pavement and possibly fearing I'd do the same thing to the taxi. The taxi driver then proceeded to charge me the full 25 pounds fare, completely ignoring the 15 pounds I'd already given him for taxi, I opened my mouth to argue then after having enough for the night I just sighed, handed him his 25 pounds and trudged off into the night.
After walking all the way through town (in what I guess is traditionally called the "walk of shame") home it was around 6 o'clock when I finally made it home and crashed into bed. Man it was good to see old friends and it was interesting to actually be out and about but if this is the lifestyle people my age and younger live every weekend then I really am looking at the wrong kind of thing to spend my time doing haha, at least it makes for an interesting story though, even a disappointed, tired and physically wrecked Matthew can still admit to that.