Refuelling



A wonderful friend of mone quotes Ernest Hemmingway on her blpg woth the doctrine: "write driunk, edit sober". So i though i'D take her (and his) advice. 

[After reading this back a few weeks later, I could see how the editing part was just as important as the getting wrecked. So I got to work on editing]


I am relaxedly hazy from an onslaught of booze that I had to try 'for the good of the company'. I am on restaurant training and I'm at the part where we get to try stuff. We have completed 'wine tasting' which involved smelling, observing, sipping and spitting, although I did swallow most of mine as, like most people I know, I am a borderline alcoholic.

We were getting told about different spirits, stuff the restaurant guests would probably never ask. There's a huge mark up on drinks in any restaurant, you may know that's where a lot of money is made.
        For example a 660ml Peroni can be bought for ~£1.20 and sold for £6.40. Its over 500% profit. Of course knowing better about them means we might be able to sell more, to the delight of the company but also bringing the possibility for me of a higher tip.

Then it got better as one of the bar staff was now fixing cocktails for us. We sipped politely and then passed it on- chugging would have been poor etiquette as everyone needed to try. However, why waste drinks (especially the best kinds of anything- FREE) when it would otherwise be submitted to the sink? Exactly: why indeed.
       Now a side note. If you've never had a Long Island Ice Tea then get one inside you. Its equal measures of vodka, white rum, gin, tequila and triple sec, over ice in a  highball glass with a splash of coke. You're best of mixing one yourself I'd say as they are expensive even though the quantities they will use are likely to be meagre.

"I got on all fours and growled at her, 

just to set the scene" 


Myself and a Pol called Kasia were eagerly finishing of all of the drinks as we were at the end of the line. It was really a great bonding session. The problem came when another worker was also 'having to,' try the beverages, despite having given up drinking 3 years previously. Of course, the company did not force him to, he was just making excuses.
        From my January dryathalon I know about breaking the sober seal, and the confusing effects it can have. (I believe that on Feb 1st, I woke up on the floor in a corridor of a building that I didn't live in). Thankfully he was being quite sensible.

We got to try everything we wanted. Although we were only taking small sips of each beverage, I found the dragon rising. The beast I refer to is the 'mischief dragon' we all know, the one who breaches his first flame after drink number two or three. [In my writing here, an example of the over-embellishment that being drunk delivers].

I now have a greater understanding of just when the dragon will soon begin to knock. Well lets at least say that I'm better at knowing now than a few years ago.

This is a thankful reckoning. It not something I consider to be a skill earned, but rather learned from a lot of trial and error. I do remember waking up many times at uni and thinking "Oh so that was the night was it?".
           This especially happened after nights where I was hosting house parties at uni. You look forward to it for ages and then it goes by in a blur like any other night. You wake up feeling like getting so drunk was not worth much, as you can't remember the joy it brought. Hence the term, wasted.
         Or there's the old familiar "Who did I offend?". If you're getting blackout drunk and not offending anyone... You're probably doing it wrong. Either that or you're not a twat like me. Another of life's great questions- nobody knows.


I'll wind up with a story about one such blackout. I can only recall this due to what I was told, so who knows of its accuracy. 
            On waking I found a pizza in my bed, and a whole lot of confusion in my head. I knew that my friend Ahmed had come to visit me at uni, we watched Mean Girls, we played the Mean Girls drinking game, big surprise, but then what.
          I think that then my housemates came home and we started the real drinking. Oh dear. We tried to go to the union but I was possibly unable to locate my ticket even though it was in my pocket. Don't judge, we've all been there. So I came home and my housemate, Cat, was having a very chilled evening with an extremely boring friend of hers who never smiled or had any fun.
          My drunken self clearly had no place for this attitude and, for whatever reason my fizzy brain had, I thought pretending to be an angry dog would help. I got on all fours and growled at her, just to set the scene. I barked, throwing my head in to the air and then I bit her legs. Big surprise. And then I chased her up the stairs, snapping and shouting. I was still on my hands and knees; breaking character after the leg biting would have been insane.

Whether that in fact did stop her from being so numbingly boring, I do not know. After that, she never came to my house again.


Next post: Reliving Summer School
Previous post: Redeployment


And now, a story of coincidence, on a global scale:

Izzy:
I was in Berlin a couple of years ago and shagged an Australian guy who's band was performing there, then like a year after when I started my new job in bris[tol], a guy had the same sit name on the staff list and it was his cousin ha

Dion Bear:
And how did you get from the subject of his surname to nailing his cousin?

Izzy:
Because I was looking at the staff list and saw the sir name and said I slept with someone with your sir name in Berlin, and he said he has an Australian cousin who is touring Germany with his band. Then I freaked

Dion Bear:
''Oh I fucked a guy with your name before''
Excellent!


Wonderful news Izzy. And for sharing, a life time supply of bird seed is on its way.





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