The Ordeal, Part Three; 3

The Last Crusade; Part Three

Stepping carefully across the hazardous steps to reach the taxi which would take me back to my humble abode was proving difficult.... yet I could see another human attempting to take my taxi! Rushing was not an option so I did the half-jog, where you don't really go much faster you just look like you do. The person in all fairness sent his apologies and I got on the way, the drink took me west....

In the taxi, it just got worse, a fairly reliant fixture of tiredness and a lack of sobriety took me into a trance like state. Within this state I do remember talking utter rubbish to the taxi driver about the world economy and to be honest in the state I was in that probably wasn't the best of ideas. I doubt David Cameron gets hammered before meetings although perhaps he should as I'd solved the worlds banking crisis in a manner of minutes with the help of beer and a 40 year old scouser.

Its only when I'd arrived to my sweet abode, that I paid the taxi man, who was far nicer than the previous two of the night and got out the car.

Staggering and indeed falling over outside of my front door (which hurt quite a lot the next day and meant that I woke up not only in my clothes but in my clothes laced with mud.), I wiggled the key into the door and arrived upstairs.

Placed my keys down and went to bed.

If only....

What actually happened was I, in my stupor had lost my phone and I had decided that it would be appropriate to wake up my flat mate to ask him to borrow his phone as to ring the missing phone.

I knocked quietly on his door. Which is a stupid thing to do to be honest. Why is it when you are trying to wake someone up you are quieter than than you would be normally? Even as a kid I remember waking up my parents in the morning in this manner, knocking quietly on the door as to wake someone up makes about as much sense as adding water to a drowning persons pool. Either way..

Despite the very polite way that he was woken up, my flat mate was not too impressed to find me staggering and lets be honest drooling at his bedroom door, a sight I'm sure young ladies around the world appreciate as well. He stared at me as I explained I needed to borrow his phone as I had misplaced mine.

Ring Ring, no answer, the phone was probably gone forever and ever. Yet I decided that this could not be the case and that I had simply misplaced it outside my house during the fall or the taking out of the keys from my pocket. I wen't out to look and with safety obviously at the forefront of my mind shut the door. I wandered, pretty aimlessly, searching, praying for my phone. It was not too be found. Lets be honest only when you go out drinking do you lose something and then go looking for it outside your house.

After sitting on my front wall contemplating crying, I decided it wasn't worth it so I went back in my house.

Nope.

As I mentioned, I fell over, placed my keys down the only bit I didn't do was the go to bed bit.

I placed my keys down. I shut the door behind me.

This is the worst feeling in the world when drunk, panic spreads from your belly all the way to you spine upward to your rather frazzled brain. I would have to wake flat mate up. Again. And he wouldn't be pleased. Perhaps he'd pick me up and spin me round so I threw up. Its not happened before but who knows. I pressed on the door bell. Jesus it's shrill, who would make a doorbell so aggressive?

Flat mate arrived and he wasn't pleased at all. I mumbled my sordid little apologies which he took rather graciously. And this time I did go to bed, fully clothed and slept forever.

This isn't where the story ends, the ordeal if you will.

Remember the coat that had caused me, Norway and Mack'um to get lost, well that was delivered back to the student union for me to pick up. When I arrived to do so, they passed me a different coat, my coat had got mixed up with another coat that was not mine. The coat had gone and in some ways I'm glad.

What had started as a rather inconspicuous day had led to late presidential elections, disregarding dissertations, monsoons, fake Chinese shelters, elusive cars, getting lost, short cuts that were not short, stoners, people being sick near trees, gates to high to climb, bikes in hallways, u-turns, 1 minute taxis, angry taxi drivers, second taxi, 12 pound vodka, man circle, leering nightclubs, sleepy shots, Adeel's taxi, slippy stairs, third taxi, lost phone, angry flatmate, lost keys, angrier flat mate, bed.

In some respects the lost grey coat is a tribute to the night and the perfect ending to the ordeal. I don't want the coat back, I'd rather have the night....