During the week I am subjected to a tour of Bristol's gay 'Village', by a team of 'scene famous' butch lesbians. Where I choose a stance, near the bar, that suggests I am an unreasonable force, and ignore at those who I have deemed socially unacceptable. Read, everyone. I refuse to purchase a single drink. Yet, due to my boyish good looks, and out of reach attitude, end up consuming the following :
- Two double Gin and Tonics, three singles.
- Six red, cherry shots
- One Mexican beer
- Two pints of cider (mine-swept from the bar)
- and two double vodkas with soda.
I also receive free entry to two clubs, a VIP access coupon with a balding man's telephone number, a wink from a bearded transvestite, and a scalding hangover.
2 comments:
serves you right, you stuck up little shit. you must be a writer, Toughie. you certainly behave like one. for instance, it's just gone 15:00 and I'm on my 5th scotch, looking forward to an afternoon of pounding prose which will ultimately lead to a growing sense of despair and throwing most of it away... sober, I'd throw all of it away, so there's that.
With that mix, no wonder the hangover! Hope you've recovered to tell us more of your escapades? Now I'm off to bed. Work in the morning! - V.
Post a Comment