Thursday 26th June

Posted by on Sunday 29th June 2003. 4 comments.

Not in keeping with my long tradition of writing no articles for Drunkit, yet trying to persuade others to do so, I have decided to renounce my hypocritical past and instead embrace a new, Drunkit future. I shall start this by telling you about last night.

The evening was one of much anticipation. As early as Monday I was in contact with Sam sketching out rough details for the night to come. This made a great change from our previous ten-minutes-before-mission-opens arrangements that used to bring limitless joy.

As usual, we met at Sam's house for a couple of bottles of ale (in my case Tanglefoot and London Pride) and chit-chat about the world in general. In addition to Sam and myself being there, Matthew Greenaway was predictably there as well as Sam's friend Andy from London (he knew him back in his Birmingham days). You might have seen Andy on the Weakest link a few months back. He did well and managed to get second place!

Finishing our drinks at Sam's and talking generally about how Villa have stolen a player from Leeds, we were concerned that Mission might be busy. To counter this, we abolished the original plan of going to McKenzies (which is shit) and instead decided to head off to the Steam Railway. From here, we thought, we could sit in the beer garden and monitor the queue situation while savouring their many guest ales.

Upon arriving at the Steam, we realised that our previous fears about the queue were widly exaggerated and Mission looked almost peaceful. We knew that could all change, so a decent seat outside and a couple of 'random' pints later, we set out to Mission, with Sam and Matthew G awaiting their first visit since Easter.

The evening was a general sucess. Large amounts of alcohol were consumed, numerous people were met and everyone was generally drunk, retarded and true to the Drunkit spirit. There is little point explaining what happened in there, as it doesn't make a lot of sense when trying to explain it - but suffice to say it was good fun.

The way home, however, wasn't quite so fun, yet equally mad. It involved Elliott...

Elliott, as you may know, is considered both dangerous and mad. Therefore quite why I decided on allowing him to walk home with me is a bit of a mystery. However, more of a mystery is why he decided to walk home with me. He had the choice of getting a taxi home to Blunsdon with his sister or walking back to mine, staying here and walking seven miles back home the next day.

On our way home, we were dreading the long walk back to West Swindon. We were both Drunk and could't quite work out why Elliott's shirt was covered in Captain Morgan, even on his shoulder blades. The question of where Elliotts phone had got to was an additional niggle we felt ill-equipped to deal with and decided on ignoring it until the morning. We had fended the length of Kings hill (saying goodbye to Matthew Greenaway a good deal earlier) when my phone rang... Could it be...?

Of course, it was Andrew, MissionMan or whatever it is he calls himself these days! He offered us the two things we needed most. A sit down and a lift to West Swindon. Feeling distinctly pleased with ourselves, we climbed in and got a lift as far as ASDA - which was nice. Thanks Andy!

The evening was rounded off with a nice 9 hour shift the next morning. Still being drunk first thing, I decided I could probably have a shot of whisky to 'tackle the hang over'. Instead of its desired effect, it rendered me somewhat ill. I wish I had gone for the Guinness instead now.

I think that last sentence really sums up the night, though. I wish I had gone for the Guinness. There was a lot of fun, a lot of people, but nothing amazing that made it a classic. No one was wearing anything odd, nor were there any major queue-incidents (such as fighting). All in all, a good night out, were it not for work the next morning.

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