Cry Another Day

I haven't written a party-related post for a while now. I used to cover our drunken exploits far more often on this blog, until my mother sent me an e-mail asking me in that polite but unmistakeably disapproving tone that mothers use if I was not at all concerned for my liver, because she certainly was, and perhaps I should pay more attention to my health and my AGE, thank you very much. Ok, maybe she didn't mention my age, perhaps that is my guilt talking. I then had to fling myself into furious back pedalling to convince her that I am in fact in very good health, and contrary to how it sounds, I don't actually spend every weekend pissed out of my head. Only every second weekend. Ha ha, sorry mom, just kidding - and I love that you care, really.

In all seriousness though, I am a lot better than I used to be - we all are. Nights would often end with one or more of my happy party in floods of tears (clearly not so happy anymore), falling off of or over inconveniently placed obstacles such as bar tables or bartenders, picking fights and causing an almighty scene (usually the girls), throwing up in the doorway of the club (the girls again), dancing like strippers on podiums (we still do that) or any number of other issues that befall the truly drink sodden. Did we have a good time? Hell yeah! But we are all getting on a bit now, and we've developed a sense of dignity. At least, we thoroughly enjoy watching our younger compatriots behave in a similar fashion when we're out, and smugly discussing how we've grown up since then (we choose not to notice that we were right in there as recently as 18 months ago). So we manage for the most part to party up a storm without behaving like chavs or taking a battering ram to our livers - just a solid mallett does the trick, we find. There are, however, always exceptions to any rule.

Saturday was one such exception. As I've mentioned before, there is a large group of us all born in March. Much discussion over beers (of course) has led us to believe that June, the month in which we were all conceived, is obviously a generally cold and boring month. Because our parents could not control their libidos during the early ides of winter, we now have to deal with what is a very expensive and physically exhausting 31 days each year, as we try to celebrate with each of the March babies. This year, we faced an expensive and physically exhausting March after having already faced an expensive and physically exhausting previous 6 months, due to the recession and our constant worrying about how to survive it (never mind those of who have actually been laid off as result). One thing was certain - the only way to deal with March in a credit crunch was to have one massive birthday celebration for everyone.

Saturday night was that celebration and it lived up to the extensive hype we've been feeding into it the past few weeks. We took over a pub in Wandsworth, having convinced the owner to let us have it for free in return for ramping up his weekend attendance, and we set up a sound rig in there that could have easily powered a small club. Since so many of our friends are up and coming DJs in the trance and electro scenes in London, they all volunteered to play, and the pub's owner kindly offered to lock the place down from 11pm - 2am just for us. For those not familiar with a lockdown, its when an establishment closes its doors to the public and allows the punters inside to continue partying. You can go out, but if you do, you can't come back in, as was discovered by my sweet but dopey friend P, who wandered outside for a smoke after 11 and never made it back (there was an alternative smoking area out the back, but there you go).

Everything was going splendidly. People were pissed and having the time of their lives. But as with anything, things are not always what they seem.....the drama started half way through the evening when Penguin ran into some trouble with the guy she's been seeing. To cut a long story short, there is also an ex-girlfriend in the picture, and one thing led to another and before we knew it, Pen was miserable and pissed off. I pulled her outside to do my friendly duty in telling her what an idiot he was, and my concern was met with a flood of tears. After a quick pep talk and make-up check - because we are all very experienced in How To Deal with Drunken Dramatics - we had her back on the dancefloor and in high spirits again. Later on there was a pretty much a blow by blow repeat performance, which ended with Penguin leaving and not telling anyone. I'd give that a measly 5 out of 10 in the drama stakes, although for Pen it actually deserves a 6, as it is quite out of character for her.

at 2am we left the pub and there was some confusion as to who was going where with whom. Miss M and Shoes had a little altercation outside the pub, with Shoes saying some things he shouldn't have in a very insensitive guy kind of way, leaving Miss M a little upset. In the meantime, Mandz was practically rolling herself down the road in the general direction of home. When I questioned G-Days and OJ about it, they said she had fought them off when they tried to call her a cab, and had insisted on walking home. As the poor girl was too drunk to coherently spell out her address, I made the boys chase her down and hail a cab for her, which they forcibly put her in. On my way to a friend's house to continue the party, I had first Mandz and then Miss M call me, both of them in tears for very different reasons. Miss M was unsure as to why she was crying, and was very upset that she was being "that drunk girl who cries about nothing". Mandz on the other hand was very sure of why she was crying - she didn't want to get in the cab and was forced into it, and then life, love and everything in general were all just too much and what was she supposed to do, and how could she go inside her house in this state (she was standing on her front lawn probably waking up the neighbours with braying sobs).

At one point, I had my phone in one ear with Mandz sobbing her heart out, and G-Days' phone in the other ear with Miss M bawling, and I very nearly started crying myself because I couldn't think of anything else to do! It took some doing, but I managed to soothe them both by talking about shopping (Mandz) and how everyone else was actually far more dramatic that she was (Miss M).

The best thing was the shameful texts the next morning, when no-one could quite face anyone else, or in Mandz' case, even remember what had happened at all! All in all it was a brilliant night, so good in fact, that the pub owner has agreed to let us have regular parties there over the summer. Next time I'll be the crazy one, and someone else can do the counselling!