Since we're talking about Hen Nights and weddings (or at least I am) I thought I'd post about my mate Pauls'.
He was having his Stag Night at a pub we used to frequent south of the river. I can't remember why we used to drive ten miles to go to the pub when we could have just walked down the road and got blasted. We just did.......We liked the place.
All the regulars were there and we tried to get Paul as very, very drunk as we could. We were getting him pints with a whisky chaser. What we didn't tell him was that the chasers were doubles and we'd put a single whisky in his pint too. After a bit he was sitting there with his chin on the table.
He'd decided that he wanted to collect the shorts glasses as a momento so he kept putting them in his pockets. He'd also decided that he didn't want to use the pub toilets and kept going outside to relieve himself in the car park. We could see him reflected in the mirror behind the bar as he came back. Every time he'd trip over the step and there'd be this 'clunk' as his head hit the door. We pretended not to notice but he made this strange tinkling sound from all the broken glasses in his pockets as he wobbled along.
Then, later in the evening, Paul hadn't come back for about five minutes so we thought we'd better go and look for him. We could hear this voice calling "Help. Help". There was some sort of Victorian monument in the middle of the road. All stone slabs at the bottom and then a black iron column with cross pieces at the top. Paul was hanging over one of the cross pieces with his arms and legs waving in the air. I've got no idea how or why he got up there.
Now we had to get him down. Cardigan Dave braced himself at the bottom of the monument and Jack The Hat got on his shoulders. I climbed up Jack The Hat. I couldn't reach Pauls' legs because of the way he was hanging so I grabbed his wrists and pulled. Down we all went in a heap.
Time to go home now. We took a taxi. Then the taxi driver threw us out at the town centre because he thought we looked a bit iffy. There was this bunch of rugby supporters coming the other way and they were a bit rowdy so we hopped over the church wall and hid behind the hedge. "Leave me man, just leave me" says Paul. I told him to shut up and put my hand over his mouth since he seemed to have lost the art of talking quietly. Then he threw up through my fingers.
Having evaded the rugbyists we got back to my house. My mum thought this was hilarous and kept taking pictures of Paul throwing up into the sink. "Will my dad know?" he asks me. "No" I told him. "You'll be fine. Here, have a peppermint.". Pauls dad came to pick him up and apparently he spent the entire trip home throwing up out of the car window.
Next day's the wedding day and I'm in my best bib and tucker. Best Man Bernie. I goes up to collect Paul and his dad tells me he's in the back garden. Apparently his mum reckoned he'd been so drunk she wouldn't let him into the house so he'd been sleeping under a rose bush. I poked him a bit with my shoe to wake him up and then his mum took him into the house to clean him up and get him dressed for the wedding.
He was getting married in a little town about fortyfive minutes drive away so we stopped for a pint on the way. Rehydration you see.
We get to the town and there's only two churches so we went to the one where Paul reckoned he'd be getting married. There was no one there. Our footsteps echoed hollowly among the marble. We set off as quick as we could to the other church. This was better. It was crowded and was obviously a wedding. We sat down on the grooms pew.
After a bit, Paul's been looking 'round and he says "You know. I don't know any of these people". I screwed my head around and I didn't know any of them either. Wrong church. We pelted back to the first one. There was only two minutes to Lift Off and we couldn't be late.
Thank heavens his dad was there so this was the right place. We sat on the front bench and passed my hipflask back and forth. It all went off fine. As Best Man it was my responsiblity to grab hold of his jacket to stop him swaying back and forth during the wedding vows.
The evening reception was an absolute blast. The booze was free and I'd never seen Pauls' dad drunk before.
I have absolutely no idea how I got home.