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I woke up that December morning feeling a little tired, but otherwise fine. Despite the night of heavy drinking before, I had no hangover. It was only after thinking of this for a while that I realised I couldn’t actually remember anything that happened the night before.
A group of us went out for a meal. I remembered that part. I even remembered liking a particular glass of wine despite me not being a wine person. I liked it so much that I ordered a bottle of it. Things get hazy right around the point I ordered my second…
I sighed and wandered downstairs and found my mother in the kitchen. She smirked at me, “Good night last night?” she chuckled, ‘She knows something I don’t…’ I thought, but played dumb. “Oh, It was OK I suppose.” I shrugged. “Is that why you left all your clothes in the living room?” she questioned. Through the laughter, I managed to get the story out of my mother. My parents heard me arrive home. They heard the door open, everything went quiet, then they heard a thud. “Your Stepdad was going to come and see if you were ok. Thank god he didn’t, eh! It seems you decided to take your clothes off in the living room, then go upstairs to bed!”. I blushed and decided to go back upstairs.
I sat on my bed and my mobile phone went off, a friend who was there last night. “Feeling ok then?” she laughed. Will everyone keep laughing? I sighed, “Yeah, I suppose so. Don’t remember much.”, “You don’t remember trying it on with Maries boyfriend then?”. I was struck dumb, “I….did what?”, “You were a bit tipsy and kept flirting with her boyfriend. I think you’d better ring and apologise.”
I was gobsmacked. Marie was a good friend, and so was her boyfriend. Had I lost the friendship of both without even remembering how? I quickly dialled her number, and before she even had time to say hello I pleaded for forgiveness, “I can’t remember anything that happened last night, but I have just been told what I did to you. I’m so, so sorry”. She was as sweet as she always was, even going so far as to blame herself saying she had been a bit tipsy too and probably got over-jealous. We both cried a little, and she forgave. Everything was ok. But then she had a reminder for me too…
“Do you remember the cab ride home? I think you’d better ring Stacey.”, “Stacey? Why, what did I do to her?” I panicked. “It’s nothing major this time,” she teased, “But you’d better ring her anyway.
I put down the phone in a daze. All these things I had done, but still I had no memory of any of them. I picked up the phone again and dialled Staceys’ number.
“Oh hello you!” she laughed as soon as she realised it was me, “feeling better?” How many people were going to ask me that today? “Um…I just spoke to Marie to apologise for last night and she said I should ring you. I’m sorry, but I really don’t remember anything.” After a few minutes more laughing I learned a bit more about my behaviour the night before. She had shared a cab with me, and on the way home I had stuck my head out of the window and…vomited.
“Oh my god,” I exclaimed, “Then what happened?”
“Well, it had all gone down the outside and after we’d dropped you off the cab driver was going mad, saying we had to pay a fine. I said it just needed washing off, so when we got to mine I got a kettle of water and rinsed it away. Cab driver was ok after that.”
I closed my eyes and wished I had never even known what the word Alcohol was. “I’m so…so sorry, Stacey.”, “That’s ok. Will give us something to laugh about in the future, eh?” I smiled slightly, until the next words wiped the smile away, “But have you spoken to Paul yet?” I went white, “…Only joking!” she chuckled, and put the phone down.
I lay back on my bed and tried to piece together the stories. All the missing pieces were soon put in place by more phone calls and messages I got over the day. I had tried chatting up a DJ but fell over and pulled his earphones off, I had fallen off a stage that I had decided to sit on (which explained the bruises anyway), I had informed a very good friend, and a lovely person, that their dress sense was awful. All in all, I had managed to offend or piss-off every good friend I had.
I wrote a list of all the people I had done wrong, and brought several cards. I wrote to each person apologising profusely.
The next time I saw them all, they were all fine with me. All forgiving and finding humour in the entire thing. To this day, I still have blank parts of my memory of that night, and am still deeply embarrassed. And I have never touched alcohol since…
…well, maybe just a little…
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