This little girl went "Puke, puke, puke" all the way home.
Alcohol. What is it about this vile liquid that makes people want to consume it in large amounts, and make bloody fools out of themselves? It’s okay if you can hold your drink well, it’s not so when you start shrieking like a banshee whenever your fave song comes on, then start gyrating on the dance floor like a mad chimpanzee high on E. In the alcohol-induced state, you think you look real sexy there, but let me tell you, you’re just the joke of the night for the audience.
I started regularly going to clubs 7 years ago. You would think I’m used to all the booze now, but I really hate it. Liquor, wine, beer… all taste the same to me. Yucky. To think I spent 3 years studying its creation process. I don’t remember any text mentioning the after-effects though. I really admire anyone who can down 5 glasses of anything with more than 3 ingredients inside, and still talk coherently after. I’ve never been drunk – not because I’m a good drinker – but because usually after the 1st glass, I get the mother of all headaches. And the feeling is equivalent to severe seasickness. Many a night, I grip the edge of the seat, white-knuckled and keeping my mouth tightly shut to keep my intestines in, while the pervy cab driver reckons he’s Schumacher on the traffic-light ridden streets of SG. So all I wanna do is go home with insides intact, clean up the warpaint, and get jiggy with my comfy bed. Plus I’m allergic to booze. I get these tiny, evil-looking red protrusions on my arms and legs the morning after. Eyebags + Puffy Eyes + Stale-smelling Ciggy Hair + Red Polka Dots. Very pretty.
Last night we went down to a club in MS. It was Ladies’ Night, free cover, free drinks, free eye candy, free 2nd hand smoke. And to make things worse, a friend was working there, so drinks were appearing at our table on auto. E says she hadn’t partied in a long time, so pop she goes, 2 glasses in 10 minutes. By 1230hrs, she’s talking 10 decibels louder and getting bitchy about everyone on the dancefloor. By 0130hrs, we were stumbling out of the club and making our way home. After all, it was already Friday morning, and all of them had to work. Lucky me =). No work, no hangover, can wake up at 1 in the afternoon.
We made our way (J ambling like an old man, E claiming she’s flying) to the carpark at UE Square. I had to keep shushing E as her giggles were bouncing rudely off the walls of the apartment blocks, and the security guard was looking murderous cuz we woke him from his sleep. E says she hadn’t been this drunk for a long time. I ask if she wanted to do this again next week, and she says “Of course!”. 10 minutes later in the car, after stopping twice for her to regurgitate her lunch onto the pavement, I ask the same question again. This time, sprawled all over the front seat, her reply was a weak nod. What a hardy little girl.