Until Next Time
What a night! What a party! Stumbling home with a mouth like sandpaper to my tongue, and a residual taste of vindaloo, I seek out a late-night drug store.
My frazzled brain screams for something to counteract the drink. I look at the counter, unable to make a choice: pain relief, stomach relief, vitamins, or rehydration fluids – or maybe all of them.
That’s when I see a leprechaun sitting on the shelf beside the paracetamol. I rub my eyes in disbelief but he’s still there – a little man in a green jacket, short green trousers, matching hat, sporting a bushy red beard. “Go home,” he says, “Have a full Irish breakfast: bacon, sausages, eggs, white pudding, grilled tomato, beans, mushrooms, hash browns, and toast with butter and jam.”
I rush out of the store and vomit in the street at the thought of such a meal, resolving never to drink again.
At least, not until the next time.
I return to the store. At the same counter the little green leprechaun mockingly says, “Hello again, eejit”. I tell him to bugger off, and grab two bottles of a very unnaturally blue fluid full of electrolytes.
Outside, I gargle the first mouthful of blueness and quickly drink the rest of the bottle. The second bottle defies my attempt to open it, so with an expletive I throw it at a lamppost, miss the target and stagger home.
As I lurch along, I become increasingly alarmed at the prospect of my live-in girlfriend Alice’s reaction, if she is awake.
Of course, Alice will be awake! She’s seen me inebriated before and would not be surprised to find me sleeping it off on the couch. But, like a truffle searching Lagotto dog, I’m concerned she will detect the faint scent of another woman buried beneath my musk of booze, smoke, and body odour.
Earlier in the evening, Amanda and I ended up in a corner where silly, drink fuelled jokes progressed to a full-on snog. She gave approving moans through our attached mouths as my hand reached beneath her blouse to her breast. Embarrassingly, her hand to my crotch found me with a brewer’s droop, prematurely ended our coupling; Amanda pulled away – “Another time, eh, John!”
I console myself with one last pint. As I leave, I catch a glimpse of Amanda with young Shaun Ferris. Maybe she’ll have better luck with him.
I arrive at my building and fumble to find my key to the staircase leading to my first floor flat. There seems to be more stairs than usual. Reaching the last, I trip, keys clattering to the concrete floor. I attempt to stand but my knees seem unable to support my frame. I crawl to the door, sense a warm liquid on my chin, my tongue tasting blood from a split lip. Then I see that damn leprechaun again, watching me as I struggle. “You bloody eejit.” I tell him to “Fuck off,” unlock the door, closing it quickly to leave the little bastard outside.
I recall nothing until there’s a whisper in my ear, “Would you like black coffee?” I’m lying on the couch, fully clothed, feeling like yesterday’s warmed-over bubble and squeak. I nod and a mug of hot, obsidian liquid is deliberately slammed onto the coffee table next to the leprechaun – how did he get in?
The little man says, “She knows, eejit”
Alice angrily adds, “Quite the night eh, John? You idiot. When you’re clear-headed you better have a fucking good story to tell me about that woman last night.”