Yo Old Articula

Posted by on Sunday 14th September 2003. 2 comments.

Was this the greatest night of all time?  At this time, (Friday morning, the alcohol is yet to wear off!) it certainly feels close.

The night of Thursday 20th December, as you all know had been hyped up massively for months previously.  EVERYONE was going to be out, and we were buying the "Largest Round in Mission History". It had been my last day working at Halcrow, so celebrations were in order.  This was also my last Thursday night for possibly several months - I am starting my job as a ski guide next Friday morning, and it will be hard to get out.  This really is the end of an era for me, and unfortunately, the reports which I have immensely enjoyed writing will have to stop .  Since going on holiday in August, I have missed ONE Thursday night at Mission - I was in Bristol on that unfortunate occasion.  All this meant that I was convinced that this was going to be one of the best nights of my life, and we certainly weren't let down.

The night started off in a very pleasant fashion - quiet pints in the Wheatsheaf.  We spent the time here bickering about Lager vs. Ale (ale rules, and you all know it!) and preparing for the monumental event about to happen.  I had my list of who was buying which drinks in the event.  At the start of the night, 51 drinks had been ordered.  However, on seeing that Jez CC had asked for 8 drinks, many of our proud Drunkiteers felt totally inadequate, and immediately upped their order to match.

We then made our way to the Cross Keys (via Longs, where we didn't even buy a drink it was so crowded).  Here, many more orders were placed, and many more Drunkiteers, not wanting to be upstaged, increased their order to 8 drinks.
By this stage, my wallet was absolutely bursting with cash, and I was beginning to worry about the logistics of the occasion.  A tally chart was created, telling us that amongst others, 17 shots of Tequila Rose, 11 shots of Dooleys, 10 bottles of V-Ice, 9 shots of Baileys and 8 shots of Tia Maria were being purchased.  

We made our way to Mission for about 8.55.  Although this may sound early to the untrained ear, (Mission doesn't open until 9.00), the plan saved us massive amounts of time queuing.  The bar was the only destination on anybody's mind, and so we gathered at the far end, and a few more orders were placed.  On explaining the order of events to one barmaid, she said that I "should speak to Simon".  When I found out who Simon was, I was in total joy - The Really Old Barman!!!  All my hopes and dreams were coming true.  The drinks were ordered relatively hassle free.  I lost all track of time, although I was reliably informed that it took around 40 minutes before all the drinks were ready, lined up on the bar.  The grand total: 91 drinks (I repeat, 91 drinks!) at a cost of £137.50.  Photos were taken of the bar in all its glory, and the drinks were handed out.  The only real disappointment was the absence of Mr Debbage.  Whilst we new Hey Nay wouldn't be around, Leigh was expected.  His drinks had been purchased, and I took the executive decision to nominate myself as the person to drink them on his behalf.

As the money was being handed over, shouts of "We Are the Champions, My Friends.." were heard ringing out from the back.  A wholly suitable tune selection, I think.
I enjoyed introducing Jez to Bobby and James - "It's fucking Jez CC!!!  Wayaaah."
Tragically, Matthew DGOAD managed to spill 4 of Leigh's shots over Stuart and I.  He justified this by recalling an event from around a year ago, when I dropped Alcopops all over him!  I'll forgive you, Matt, now we're even…

The upstairs dancefloor took a severe pounding from us over the course of the evening.  particular moments involving The Greenster and I, with one white glove each, leaning over the balcony, arms flailing, whilst the cracking tune "Runnin'" by Basstoy was booming out of the sound system.  I was wearing a name badge informing everyone that I was indeed "Sam Millard - Birmingham", just in case anyone had forgotten.  

I went to speak to Andrew the Fat Bald Dancing Man.  After introducing him some people (just to prove I actually know him), he told me how his mates were somewhere around, they had just briefly left him.  Given that I have never seen him speak to anyone but me, I think this may be unlikely.  What a legend!

I enjoyed the cheek of my sister (who I didn't know was coming out), who had promised me a drink.  She soon found herself out of cash, and so made Jez give her money to buy my Guinness with!  Only girls can get away with this treachery, although on this occasion I couldn't complain!

We moved into Coyote Loco when the doors opened.  I received some more generously sized shots from Mr Farrow on the bar, and then started dancing as part of a large group of people I had never met before.  They were all wearing red t-shirts, exactly like me!  This was obviously a Themed Night for them, and I tried to cheekily sneak up on them and amalgamate myself into their group.  This caused much amusement for everyone involved, but the bar was somehow more tempting to me than this group of comical strangers…

Some cracking tunes were played - from "Don't Look Back in Anger" to "D.E.V.I.L" (which Matt D and I virtually begged the DJ to play) to "Resurrection" to "24 Hours" by Agent Sumo to "Be Angeled" by Jam & Spoon.

I can't really explain the pride I felt when purchasing The Round, nor the amount of fun I had whilst in Mission.  It was a truly awesome night, although more jolly antics happened on the way home.  I can't quite remember the rationale behind our decision, but around 5 of us decided to sprint back to my house.  Unfortunately, the combination of a smooth tarmac surface, frost, a sharp corner, and no grip on my shoes resulted in the inevitable hilarious fall.  I went skidding across the Co-Op car park, and whilst the proof is there for all to see on my knee, everyone knows the rule that you can’t damage clothes whilst drunk.  My jeans don't even have a scratch!

I am glad that I resisted the temptation to jump in a trolley about to be driven by a load of wasted lads (i.e. Jez, both Matts & Stuart).  This could well have resulted in severe personal injury…  The evidence of our journey home is still there - a strategically placed traffic cone to fend off possible sober beings on my road.  

A truly great way to end my Thursday Night Career (for the time being anyway), although hopefully I will see you all on Sunday for another large one.

Thanks to everyone who took part in The Round.  Once I have the photos (I was expecting Leigh to be the official photographer, so I will have to see James' now instead) I will make certificates commemorating each player in the event.

Maybe we could even obliterate our Personal Best at Easter?  Let's all hope so….

The Analyst

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