A TRUE STORY ABOUT GETTING DRUNK

This article is about Alcohol and the effects it has on the male teenage brain. It may get quite graphic so if you are of a sensitive disposition, please read on.

I only remember the beginning of this story and it’s subsequent aftermath. The bit in the middle was given to me by various third parties with whom I was at school with when it all happened.

My old school was a boarding school, a fine English public school (the sort where you pay to be educated) One of the perks we had was being allowed out of school bounds at weekends to go into the local town and socialise. In other words get drunk. It was around Mid October and an acquaintance  was celebrating his birthday and wanted to do something special to mark this happy day. It being a Saturday, and boring it was decided the best thing would be to go Midsomer N (The local town) and get drunk. Just like most weekends actually, Bath being the other option.  there were four of us the birthday boy who shall be referred to as B. A Spanish guy called M  and then there was C.  Another person declined, he said at the time he thought something awful would happen. He was right.

This is the point where the story becomes unclear. All I know we bought the drink and went out on top of the old slag heap. I remember a bottle of Coconut and Rum based drink in a white bottle. A bottle of nice Red I had pinched from my Dads wine cellar. I still have a morbid dislike of Coconut’s and their odour to this day. The Bottle of Red was Spanish and probably quite expensive. There would have been other drink as well. Most likely Whisky and Beer.

I do know we sang Happy Birthday as per tradition, we also sang it in French, though probably not very well. With writing My memories of this day seem to be coming back to me. Maybe there is a healing taking place here. I always recall C as being squeamish, it was not hard to make him gag and I do recall wanting to go toilet, I squatted behind a tree and probably used Pine needles. (gross, but necessary) The next bit? The turd was impaled on a stick and I chased my fellows around the summit of the heap. C went Green and gagged and the toilet got spread around a bit. I ought to mention here that my sense of humour can be somewhat inappropriate. Or at least used to be, it’s nice to think I have grown up a little bit since then.

I seem to recall some of the locals and their motorbike and C attempting to ride it. Something about loosing the clutch handle that rendered the thing useless and the owners being annoyed. This is what I recall and partly what was said to me later.

I do not remember running down the side of the heap and pulling a moony at a couple of Policemen. If you do not know what a moony is, it is the exposing of ones naked backside to some unsuspecting individuals or group of people. I guess choosing a pair of coppers was a bad idea. As was vomiting on their boots,  the same could be said for telling one or both of them to. “Fuck off Pork.” When they tried to pick me up.

According to the other witnesses the police wanted to take me in or at least back to the school, which being very noble and proper minded would probably have resulted in all sorts of bother. Anyway the offer was declined reasons being it would cause all manner of trouble, expulsions and that sort of thing. I would like to apologise at this point to A, M and C for the trouble this adventure must have caused. I have no idea how they got me home, but I did hear the  driver refused to take the unconscious, vomit covered public school boy, on his bus. So I guess they must have dragged/ carried me back ‘home.’ A distance of about 3 miles, it must have been nightmarish.