Friday 17 June 2016

Drunk Visitors

Last night a friend of mine was throwing a big drinks party for her birthday.

A few days ago, another old friend, S, (who lives in the country) called to ask if she could stay the night after the event.

Now, S and I go back a long way. We're old drinking buddies. Many a night we'd sit cackling on a sofa at some party or other like a pair of old crones. She is Godmother to one of my children, and I am Godmother to one of hers.

I know that she is not very happy about me not drinking, so I was a bit nervous about her coming to stay.

I find drinks parties the most difficult situation to navigate sober. I still feel less sparkling, less witty, less interesting in that scenario than I used to (although it is, slowly, getting easier). I handily forget how utterly boring I could be after a few too many drinks.

Despite that scratchiness, I loved the party, loved parking right outside, loved catching up with old friends, loved the fact that they served virgin mojitos.

BUT by 11.30pm the crowd had thinned out massively and I was ready to head home.

Not my guest, however, so Mr SM gave her his keys and she said she'd follow on in a cab a little later.

We were woken up shortly after we'd fallen asleep by S who was having problems making the keys work in the lock (remember that feeling, anyone?).

Mr SM let her in and she stayed up a little longer for a nightcap and a cigarette while we went back to sleep.

We had to get up early this morning as it's a school day. Mr SM walked out of the bedroom first and I heard him yell "Oh my God, what's happened here?!"

"What?!?" I replied, suddenly wide awake.

"You'd better come and look."

There was a five foot hole in our staircase, and three of the carved, wooden bannisters were lying on the landing in pieces.

It turned out that S had staggered up the stairs to bed, tripped over her bell bottomed trousers and all six foot two of her had hurtled back down the stairs, like a giant redwood being felled in a forest, and through our bannisters.

She's fine. Just a little bruised and embarrassed.

Our staircase isn't.

Now, had I been drunk or hungover when this all came to light we may well have had the sort of row that would ruin an old friendship.

But I'm sober. I am zen. I've been to yoga twice this week. My chakras (whatever they may be) are aligned. I am, according to my oncologist, currently cancer free.

(And it was a welcome reminder that parties may be a little bit harder sober than drunk, but at least I'm not careering round the country destroying other people's property).

So I got the kid's UHU out of the craft box, found a roll of Sellotape, and did a temporary patch job, before sitting down with a hungover S for a debrief on the party.

"Sorry about your stairs," she mumbled over her breakfast of strong coffee and Marlboro.

"That's okay," I replied, passing her two of the extra strong ibuprofen I'd been given after they removed a sizeable chunk of my left boob, "but don't expect me not to tell anyone. It'll make a great dinner party story. That's the quid pro quo. You may not be a perfect guest, but you're a fabulous anecdote."

What she doesn't know is that I'm sharing it as a cautionary tale with thousands of my friends on the internet too...

Love SM x


20 comments:

  1. Thank you. That was so funny and made me laugh so much. I can just picture it. It has made my day brighter and lighter.

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  2. LOL LOL! That could so easily have been me..... Not any more of course. Will it come under accidental damage on insurance lol????

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  3. Howling with laughter...this is so much funnier when your not the drunk person

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  4. Ha ha ha. Oh HOW awful for her. Just imagine she must have felt sooo embarrassed. I have a friend like that who hasn't quite realised I've stopped drinking, she'll be very put out when the penny drops. We have also had some nights toppling over to much hilarity which we still laugh about, but actually its funny in your 20's. Not very funny in your 50's though is it.

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  5. I wonder how she feel about your not drinking now.....

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  7. Man oh man. Thank God for sobriety! I'm used to the shoe being on the other foot so to speak.

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  8. Well that explains what happened to my brother-in-law's staircase (BIL). I could never understand what the heck happened. Now I know (he has been in recovery for a year). Go BIL!

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  9. Well that explains what happened to my brother-in-law's staircase (BIL). I could never understand what the heck happened. Now I know (he has been in recovery for a year). Go BIL!

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  10. Ouch! Poor her. Bet she was mortified. I think it's nice to be the one consoling the drunk ones on their antics and filling in the gaps. And doing so without being smug. After all we've been there!

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  11. Ouch! Poor her. Bet she was mortified. I think it's nice to be the one consoling the drunk ones on their antics and filling in the gaps. And doing so without being smug. After all we've been there!

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  12. Wow! That's a very good story and reminder. I keep wondering if you are going to charge her for the damage :-)

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    1. Nope. As EH says, I'm not exactly one to judge ;-)

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    2. I understand the bannister, but the hole?

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  13. Gratitude, gratitude! The a/f life is really just littered with gratitude, isn't it?

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  14. Oh, this is kind of awful but so very funny! I don't blame you for planning to dine out on this one xo

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  15. OMG!! I would be so mortified it that was me! Has she offered to pay for the damage?! A x

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  16. Wow! That is a story. How awful and yes drinking may seem like fun at the time, but when stuff like this happens make us glad we don't drink. I hope she offered to pay for repairs. PDTG. P.s I read an article during the week about how good yoga is for cancer survivors and a study done showed all survivors who practiced yoga reported less anxiety, better sleep and all round better health. It made me think of you.

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  17. Yikes...you are entitled to be a little smug in your sobriety SoberMummy, and also to share away! Glad the only thing hurt, (aside from a damaged staircase) was your friend's drinking pride.

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  18. When visiting friends in their newly purchased newly decorated cottage in Wales, I over indulged in quite a bit of port which is a killer. We all went to bed but about 3am I work with a banging head and feeling unwell. I did NOT make it to the bathroom in time and very indelicately threw up on their newly painted white walls. Cut to the next morning and there was hell up, yelling, cursing and who the **** puked on the walls. About to come clean in exchange for some paracetamol or alka seltzer I opened my mouth when one of the guys said "oh Christ sorry, I think that was me, I had way too much port" I closed my mouth and never told anyone the truth. Strong coffee and Marlboro sounds amazing but then I always did love smoking, sad sigh.

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