Sunday, 30 September 2012

Why aye pet!

So I thought I'd finally jump on the year abroad blog band wagon, and what better time to start than mine and Ben Hand's leaving party. Neither of us leave until October but it was pay day and a good excuse to go and get mortal. It was just going to be a normal night until I had the most genius, drunk idea of making it Geordie Shore themed and bullied Ben into agreeing with it. Needless to say it was an eventful night full of drinking, fake tan and slut dropping.

The night before I had donned my fake tan which was patchy and bronzey, and left marks on the toilet seats when I went to pee which became an odd nightmare. As I was on the late shift that night I had little time to Geordiefy myself and was constantly being told to hurry up by Sam. Half an hour and a lot of dark foundation later we were on our way to Leicester Square to hit up Yates, the chaviest, most disgusting bar in London. It's full of people in suits just finishing work, old women in leopard print bodycon that probably belongs to their daughters out on the prowl for a toy boy, bald men in done up polo shirts thinking they're "lads"and girls tarted up to the nines. At first we thought the drinks were rather expensive as a double gin and tonic with a tequila shot cost us £12 but a bottle of wine was £8 so everyone started cracking on and having a good time.

As the wine started to flow the need to slut drop began so we made our way down to the dingy Yates dance floor to haver our lungs filled with smoke. We saw lots of people Tashing on and something even better. A STRIPPER POLE!

2 bottles of wine later and a few drunk heart to hearts meant that it was unfortunately time to catch the last train home. So Katy and I decanted all the remainder of the wine into an empty bottle and stole it for the train journey home. OR SO WE THOUGHT! We wanted a drunk burger king but the line was too long so we got a sandwich and sat down on the train to drink our wine. Then it began. The ugly side of alcohol. Katy was sick all the way home, on a very pack train. Despite how squeemish I am I managed to eat my sandwich whilst holding open Katy's vomit bag and then I had to clear up whole chunks of noodles. 

So overall, it was a fairly successful leaving night. I hope Handbags had just as an enjoyable evening. It makes me sad to think that that's going to be one of my last night out in London. Nothing can beat London, it's atmosphere, it's nightlife, it's culture, it's everything. I hope Paris can live up to it.


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