That's how my head felt last night, which explains why I haven't really been writing.
So Friday night, Joshua and myself needed to thrash it out and talk, got into this place called "de Club", and chatted over 2 jugs of Vodka Lime. The temperature got so low, both of us were practically freezing inside (we were the only customers). We got out feeling a little high and jumped right into the next club across the street. The music was great so we ordered yet another jug of B-Coke. Then we ran into our hair stylist, had some weird shots, and got yet another jug of Whiskey-something.
There were plenty of drinks to go around, but by then, both of us were higher than where we could put our asses. I tried to induce vomit so that I could clear my stomache, but very little came out. So I took a walk for some fresh air - all the way to Maxwell market from Tanjong Pagar stumbling on my own footsteps.
Then I felt completely sick - so short of breadth (think I got some kinda asthmatic attack) - and sat in one of the public toilet stalls for close to an hour I think. All the while I threw up, till Joshua finally called and asked if I was okay. I was not, struggled back to the pub real slow.
Halfway back I think I collasped. The next thing I knew, I was answering my phone face up on the floor! Now that's something I've never ever done before so spontaneously!
Joshua called and asked if I was coming back, I said "yeah", stood up, and threw up again. By the time I got back, I think our stylist was high too! He said I should improve, to which I said "sorry", and Joshua added "yeah, (and something really irrelevant but I couldn't remember". So the 3 of us were like trying to say something sane each, but we appeared completely insane. I just felt the stares from all around - and why not, 3 clowns clowning right in the middle of the road before the pub - we had to go.
It was a road that no cab would normally drive in, but we just had to wait for a cab there. Took us 5 minutes to decide to walk to the main road for one.
And we got one. I went flat, like some blob of sludge in the back seat. Joshua said he was high, but in the cab he joked with the cabby non-stop, and I was like... okaay..
The cabby was practically laughing at my plight, and Joshua apologised profusely to him (whatever for?!). Then I put up my hand and whispered, "Stop the cab..." The cabby was so shocked he kept pleading with me, "WAIT! WAIT!" I mean, how was anyone to stop himself from puking? What? Puke with the mouth shut and keep it there?
He went berserk, then stopped along the road to which I got off but nothing came out. Continued the journey to wound down windows and cigarettes (I was like...huh?!).
So we reached my place, Joshua offered to help me upstairs, and got the cabby to wait for him - after agreeing to pay him tibs for waiting - SCUM.
On the way up in the lift, I breathlessly told Joshua that my keys were in my bag. He dug for it, and kept asking if I was okay. As we reach the doorstep, I began taking off my boots with him struggling to aim the key into the keyhole. After the gate, I took over and aimed for the main door. Then it happened.
He puked right at my doorstep! I turned around to see a huge pool of crap in WHITE!
I stepped back, he just carried on. Wave, after, wave.
I was like, "Are you okay?!" And he was like, "*burp* *vomit* *cough*" I swayed back downstairs to the cabby, handed him 10 bucks, grabbed Joshua's bag back upstairs again. The cabby was, of course, laughing his head off when he heard the other guy was puking upstairs.
On the way up, I heard vomitting again. Dashed right in for a big pail of water to flush the crap away as I sent him in for a warm glass of water. I poured the water from the side and the inevitable happened - I stepped right onto the pool of diluted vomit barefoot. Okay, seriously, it wasn't so bad.
I went back in to get more water, then I saw Joshua leaning against the kitchen wall half-alive - and he actually said, "hey man, sorry, are you okay?" <--- WHAT IRONY!>
Struggled back out, flushed and swept all of that away, locked the door, went straight to my room, demanded a glass of water from the poor boy, took off my wet jeans, opened the bed, and literally slammed onto it. He came back in, asked me if I wanted the water, I said to leave it on the table, he asked if I was sure, I said yes, he said okay, then asked if I was okay, told him yeah, he changed down to shorts, slammed onto the bed, and the next thing we both knew, it was Saturday morning.
[LINE]
He rushed back home round 7 yesterday morning to prepare his notes for the afternoon's meeting. I woke round 9 plus - I had to rush for my meeting at ten myself. The room stank really bad.
After all that, we met around 9 plus again at night for our meeting - I asked him if he remembered anything, he just laughed and said "NO", firmly.
:wink:
[LINE]
Okay, so I'm a sucker for depression, and an idiot at alcohol-control.
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