Friday, May 21
On Being Told That You Walked Home Yesterday With "Cunt" Written On Your Face
Or, the tale of what happened after the Criminology exam.
Firstly, the exam itself. I think it wasn't quite as bad as I was expecting, but that's not to say it went particularly well. I reckon that two of the three essays I wrote were pretty damn good, but the last one wasn't brilliant. None of them were exceptional, and one was mostly a rehash of the coursework essay that I'd done a couple of months ago. Nevertheless, I was relatively satisfied with the quality of the essays.
The post-exam period was much more interesting.
Two mates of mine (Kieran and Old Man Matt) had completely finished their exams yesterday, and I had a week off before my last one, so it was definitely time for beers. We went down to the local Wetherspoons, along with a friend of Matt's who I eventually found out was called Gemma, to get some food and more importantly some beers in.
It's all about Turf 'n Surf, I'm telling you. 10oz rump steak and a pile of scampi is all good. No doubt the accompanying pint of Stella aided things.
We were all chatting away about this and that, including Matt's tale of his own journey home from the Law Ball. It seems I wasn't the only one to have an eventful time that night whilst attempting to get home. At least I didn't get interrogated by military personnel. I tip my hat to you for that one Matt. That takes effort.
Anyway, we had a lot more beers, I'm not sure how many, and we were joined by Mike, another prospective lawayer and a good bloke. I was feeling fairly tipsy, and once again fell asleep.
Actually, I'll use the word "apparently" here, because I don't remember anything from this point onwards. This was only sometime around 6 in the evening, but I managed to fall asleep on the sofa we were sitting on in the Wetherspoons. It was then that I was written on.
Apparently, I had lots of swear words all over my face, including a prominent "cunt" and "fuck". I had absolutely no idea, and didn't know anything about it until today, when I rang Matt. It had confused me when I woke up today to find a text message on my phone from Matt that said "Rob check your face next time u r in the loos", as I had absolutely no idea what had happened. It didn't even register that it could have been due to writing on my face...
What apparently happened is that I woke from my slumber sometime around 7.30pm, and decided that it was time to go home. I was completely unaware of the blue writing all over my face, and none of the people I was with told me about it. They then watched me walking up the street from the window, and specifically people's reactions.
I got lots of stares and very confused looks, according to Matt. It was daylight too, I remember that much, so I must have looked a right state. As far as I can remember, none of my housemates were about when I stumbled into the house, and I went straight to bed.
I slept for a solid 12 hours, and thankfully didn't have to experience the worst of any potential hangover. I still felt pretty shitty though. I saw that there was no pen on my face as I went past the mirror into the shower, and thought nothing of it. I didn't even remember falling asleep in the Wetherspoons. All I can remember was leaving, and even that is hazy.
All was (hilariously) explained by Matt when I rang hime earlier. I haven't laughed that hard in a while, the image of my drunken self walking up the Finchley Road with "cunt" written on my forehead was just too funny. Apparently Mike took a picture on his phone, so I've told Matt to get him to send it to me. I desperately want to see what I looked like.
Oh, and what makes it even funnier is that one of my housemates apparently came into my room sometime in the evening last night, assuming that I hadn't got home yet, with the intention of using the internet for a little while. I was sprawled, quite ungracefully on my bed under the quilt, not moving, and the room looked like a bomb had hit it.
I'm still uncertain as to why I've not been able to cope with daytime drinking recently. I used to be quite happy going on all-day sessions well into the night, but that's twice in a week that I've fallen asleep in the early evening after daytime beers.
I blame Stella. I don't drink a huge amount of Stella, but these two occasions I have been. There must be something in it which makes me sleepy. Either that or it is the sheer volume of it.
I can't be losing my drinking abilities, as I'm quite proud of how much I can drink. I don't do being sick either, that's cheating! I always find it difficult to understand how and why so many of my housemates throw up after drinking. There's nothing worse than being sick, not even a hangover. I'll take the hangover over being sick, definitely.
And that about sums it up. I'm not drinking again until next Friday, which is the day of my last exam. That also finishes at 1, so I will have to get myself prepared for a solid day's worth of drinking!