Drunk Stories

A usual drunken Friday in Sydney, Australia

What I like to call our 'drinking group' of about 15 people meet up at the local pub every Friday night with the intention of getting hammered. We do it every Friday without fail, it's our tradition, and we all figure we won't hang out all together much longer so we should make the most of it while we can.

It's around 8:30 and most of us are there. There is a band playing on stage, and some of us are up dancing. The ones that aren't dancing are talking so loudly, they are nearly drowning out the band. Some girls start dancing closer and closer to us, and of course, we follow our usual goofy routine of being scared away (man, we are so lame). But these girls are persistent (and at the time, were glamours), and come and sit with us. After a brief chat, they tell us that they are going to a club nearby if we want to hook up later. The knowledge was taken in, but soon forgotten thanks to the alcohol.

While the band begins to pack up, the bar staff do their usual duty of trying to get us to leave, which normally takes at least an hour. During this time, I have a glass smashed in my face thanks to one of my over-excited friends. I rush to the toilet and clean myself up. The gash is bad, but nothing a little beer can't fix. A short while later the very same (very drunk) friend decides that the toilet is too far and spews all over our table. Fortunately everyone was away from the table...Oh, except me of course. I copped vomit all over my arm which called for another rush to the toilet. During which time I was informed that he continued to vomit, but into empty glasses leaving a surprise for the bar staff.

Deciding that it would be too embarrassing to face the bar staff and explain the vomit and broken glass everywhere, we promptly leave. Next stop, the 24-hour pub down the street. This is a little less classy pub, but it serves beer, and that's all we wanted. It's now 1am and I'm up to my 8th beer (at least). All of a sudden, voices are raised in a far corner of the pub. I hear the smashing of a glass, and then it was on. There was about 50 people brawling in the pool table area. Glasses are being smashed, ash-trays are being thrown, bar staff are being threatened with chairs, it was unbelievable. I must admit, this little incident sobered me up a little...And again, it was time for a different venue (while we could still get out). Next stop: The Strip club 20 minutes walk down the road.

On the way to the strip club we decided to wreak a little havoc. Nothing serious, just juvenile crap (kicking over letter boxes etc). We got to the strip club where the bouncer could clearly see how drunk some of us were, and he gave us this stern warning: "You guys are all drunk, but I'm gonna let you in. If you make a single bit of trouble, I swear I will stomp on your f**king head...Got it?" We all nodded and filed in like good little boys. We lasted about 5 minutes in there before (from the bar) I heard a commotion. I look over to my friends where I see the stripper on stage lying on her back, kicking at one of my friends. They were all getting up, and falling over in a rush to get away. They all got up and ran out the doors. I was closer to the exit so I too made it before the bouncer got up out of his chair to block the door. From there we just ran.

After running for about 10 minutes, we finally end up where we started...The pub. A few of them kicked and punched the doors until it became apparent, it was closed. So our favourite pub was shut, the 24-hour one was out of the question, and I don't think I'll ever be going back to that strip club again. Next stop: the only other option, the club the girls said they'd be. And so we headed of. Along the way one of the missing members of the group turns up in his ute, only to have everyone pile into the cab and tray. Being one of the last three into the ute, I sat at the back, dangling my legs over the open gate. At this point, one of the other two at the back decides it might be funny to jump off as the ute starts taking off. He stumbles, but stays on his feet. Not taking into consideration the speed that has now been gathered, I have a go at jumping off...And my feet are swiftly swept from under me, I land on my hip and I begin to roll. I slowly pick myself up to check for serious injuries when I notice the third guy at the back jump off. He hit the road hard, and he didn't get up. On my way over I noticed my injuries; an extremely sore hip, grazed hands and a smashed watch face. As I arrived, my friend picked himself up and seemed better of than myself, he was really lucky cause that car would have been doing about 40km/h when he jumped.

After a bit of mucking around we finally get back in the ute. Most of the group decide to call it a night (after all, it was about 2am and it had already been a very eventful night). All that was left were the three of us that jumped off the truck. We got dropped off at the club and to our surprise the girls were there. They were up dancing. They kept asking what happened to us, what took so long, and why we looked like we'd just jumped off a car...We didn't tell them though, WAY too embarrassing.

By 3am I had been ditched by my two mates. They were well and truly gone, and so were most of the girls. And by this point, I had sobered up a fair bit, enough to notice that I wanted nothing to do with these girls. After reluctantly accepting their offer for a few drinks at another one of their suggested clubs, I realised that I needed an escape plan. The girls informed me that they were just going to the toilet, and then we'd go to the next club...And obviously you know what I did then...I bailed out of there as fast as I could. I got out the doors and flew down the street and around the corner. Then I walked the rest of the way home.

And so that was a usual Friday night in Sydney.

-Michael Twyman

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