Orange
I woke up with a bright orange bucket next to me and a pint of water ready for me to spill it. Later, successive strangers walked into the lounge that was my bedroom of the night, eyes drawn to the bucket and the shadow of the spilled water on the carpet and formed their first impressions of me.
I'd thought these days were behind me like my carefree student ones...
I could say it was all cousin C's fault. It was for her final twenty-something birthday that we were at a bar that sold beer of up-to 12% alcohol. Though I didn't attempt that one, beers of 7.5% and 8% can still be pretty lethal. There was a competition to try and get up to 100% by adding all your %'s together. I didn't play.
It was interesting to see how quickly beer goggles can take affect too. The prettiest girl there was also the youngest, but at eighteen she was still tainted by the blotchy skin of adolescence. My cousin W's soon-to-be sister-in-law. However, within my first two 8 percenters her skin was clear as Snow White's.
At only 11pm I was gone. Falling down steps at the underground, big sister just about catching me but I still have the scars to aid my memory. Back to Victoria to collect my bag and catch the Oxford Tube - a cheap coach service between Oxford and London. Luckily the coach had a toilet. I passed out on a seat closest to the toilet, leaving my sister, her boyfriend and my bag upstairs.
One more bus journey awaited me in Oxford to my sister's flat, where I could pass out on the sofa.
The morning came bearing a headache (though not too bad, as the beer was mostly chemical free) and a dodgy stomach. My sister got me some orange juice and toast with marmalade. Later my sick was bright orange. Even later, as I ejected my stomach lining in a storm drain in the carpark, that too was orange.
I'd thought these days were behind me like my carefree student ones...
I could say it was all cousin C's fault. It was for her final twenty-something birthday that we were at a bar that sold beer of up-to 12% alcohol. Though I didn't attempt that one, beers of 7.5% and 8% can still be pretty lethal. There was a competition to try and get up to 100% by adding all your %'s together. I didn't play.
It was interesting to see how quickly beer goggles can take affect too. The prettiest girl there was also the youngest, but at eighteen she was still tainted by the blotchy skin of adolescence. My cousin W's soon-to-be sister-in-law. However, within my first two 8 percenters her skin was clear as Snow White's.
At only 11pm I was gone. Falling down steps at the underground, big sister just about catching me but I still have the scars to aid my memory. Back to Victoria to collect my bag and catch the Oxford Tube - a cheap coach service between Oxford and London. Luckily the coach had a toilet. I passed out on a seat closest to the toilet, leaving my sister, her boyfriend and my bag upstairs.
One more bus journey awaited me in Oxford to my sister's flat, where I could pass out on the sofa.
The morning came bearing a headache (though not too bad, as the beer was mostly chemical free) and a dodgy stomach. My sister got me some orange juice and toast with marmalade. Later my sick was bright orange. Even later, as I ejected my stomach lining in a storm drain in the carpark, that too was orange.
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