Drinking Stories

[Radelaide]

My boyfriend and his friends went to Japan a few years ago.

About 3 days before they were due to leave, they all went drinking. When they stumbled back to the hotel no one had noticed Steve* had gone missing. Waking up, one friend went around asking if Steve was with them. Nope. Okay, maybe he went home with a girl...

A few hours passed and Steve still hadn't come back to hotel, so they called him. He didn't answer. They were starting to get worried, so they went to their local haunts to see if Steve was there. Nope.

My boyfriend and his friends called the Police to see if they could help. The Police told them that Steve wasn't in jail, the hospital or the morgue and that's all they could do for now but they'd call around the other stations to see if anything had happened.

^ That took about a day. Anyway, they were just about to call Steve's mum to tell her that he'd gone missing and that they don't know what's going on or where he is.

Just as my boyfriend was about to call his mum, Steve stumbles in and goes to sleep.

Boyfriend and his friends kept asking him what happened to him, why he didn't call, etc and he didn't tell them. To this day, they don't know what happened but they speculate it involved a pre-op transsexual and anal probing.

*Not his real name. Names had to be changed to protect the ashamed.

 

[Sexual Harassment Panda]

One time I threw a chip into a bin that was across the street...that's probably the best thing that happened to me on a night drinking.

Most of my memories are of trying to stop my friends from doing obviously stupid things. "Hey, Dave. Watch me stop this car" as he walks into traffic...

 

[IamQ]

Spoiler: Better Drinking theme

OT: I once drank a slushie super fast.

[small]I'm only 15 I can't drink booze ;~;[/small]

But on your profile it says that you were born in 1986. Why would you go on the internet and tell lies?!

 

[Starik20X6]

My latest drunken antics aren't so much an interesting story as they are a tale of epic failure. Basically, my attractive, recently-single best friend invited me to her house to drink. Her parents had gone on holiday so it was just going to be the two of us. So what does my stupid ass do? Gets completely trashed and spends a good chunk of the night with my head in her toilet. True to form I still wasn't hung over in the morning, but I didn't wake up next to her either so I consider the night one of my most colossal fuck-ups.

My drinking stories are all kinda depressing, probably due to most of my heavy drinking taking place when I was an immensely miserable teenager. Mostly just me getting smashed and bringing the party mood down by crying and demanding sympathy and acting all indignant when I didn't get any. If we were out in town I'd often run off into the night, which where I live is a good way to get your skull caved in by drunks and drug-addicts. Fuck I was a bad person when I was younger. Surprised my friends still talk to me.

 

[EscapeGoat_v1legacy]

Ok, here's a story from my first year at uni. Also, a couple of songs to listen to while you read.

Spoiler

So, me and a bunch of friends had gone out drinking in our lovely city of York. We'd been getting pretty bladdered for most of the evening; it was now around midnight, the high time for real drinking before heading off to a club or two. So, we were at a bar; me and a couple of mates were standing around outside the bar, leaning on the (not exactly secure, but leanable) railing-fence-thing. I had a bottle of lager in my hand (this is how you know I'm drunk, I wouldn't touch the stuff normally). So, we were chatting away, when some complete **** thinks 'Hey, you know what's fun? Kicking the railing out so someone falls over."

Har-de-har in-fucking-deed. So, one swift kick delivered to the railing, and down I go. Wouldn't be a deal normally - I'm a happy, laughing drunk, and I fell arse-over-tit before and laughed it off.

However.

I fell clutching a bottle of beer. The impact and my surprise caused my hand to clutch with hitherto unknown strength.

BAM. SHATTERED GLASS IN THE MOTHERFUCKING HAND AND BLOOD AND BEER EVERYWHERE.

So, this is the point where I blacked out. My friends filled me in when I awoke the afternoon after.

This daft bastard who kicked the fence out started laughing his arse off. So, my mates I was talking to look up from me and look at him, this average-built thick as pig shit knucklehead. They weigh up their options. Then, as one, the two of them - a six-foot plus Norwegian Viking and a towering monster from Cornwall - lay into him. The bouncer saw all this. Decided to get involved - and helps destroy the bastard.

Afterwards (including the time taken to take a picture of the guy's now horribly crunched-up face) they pick me up and take us back to the uni, before asking a couple of the girls we live with (who were sober, thankfully) to tweezer out the glass in my hand before wrapping it up in a shitton of paper and bandage and putting me to sleep.

I wake up in the afternoon with a hangover and a ridiculous amount of pain in my hand, scream at the blood, stumble into the kitchen and get the story and pictures.

So yeah. Fun stuff.