Thank goodness Percy was there to steal Viv—he’s a good friend—and at least the assistant manager wasn’t entirely spineless.
I’ve heard a ton of horror stories about dealing with drunk people and have a few of my own.
Do you guys have any memorable stories about drunken antics?
Why yes, I do!
I was in college, staying overnight off campus at a friend’s place. In the middle of the night, someone starts pounding on the front door. I wake up, and go check it. Half asleep, I see a girl is outside. I don’t have in glasses, so I can’t see details except like a foot in front of my face. The person at the door looks vaguely like the other roommate.
The thing is, we’re all night owls. We stay awake all hours, practicing music, working on projects at the university, often till 1 or 2. So, I figure the roomate locked themselves out.
I open the door to talk; they come straight inside.
It’s not my friend. It’s a complete stranger. And, this girl is drunk and entirely stumbling uncoordinated unfocused drunk.
She begins looking around and her eyes go wide. I’m confused. This is not who I thought. I am sleepy, I can’t see (not wearing glasses). I’m trying to get closer to her because I can’t see her face. She’s trying to get farther away from me, because I am obviously a stranger.
At this point, she starts shouting at me!
“Who are you?! What are you doing in my apartment?” She raved. She backed away from me into the dining area. She’s deeply confused. “Where’s all my stuff? Where’s my table? Where are my keys?”
“Uh, it’s not your apartment?”
“What?”
“It’s not your apartment.”
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
I’m thoroughly baffled. Half awake, I had no idea how to deal with this.
“Up the stairs on the right.” I tell her.
This is not my place. I have no idea why in the world I just sent her to my friend’s bathroom.
Drunk girl goes up stairs.
My friends come down from the bedrooms. Both of them.
“Who is in my bathroom?”
“A girl.”
“Who?”
“I have no idea. She’s drunk, and confused.”
“Then, Why Did You Let Her In?” I thought my friends were taking this pretty well, all things considering,
So I explained.
Drunk girl eventually comes out of bathroom. She had questions: “Where are my keys? Do you have my keys? Where am I? Can I get a ride home?”
One roommate basically says, “This is not your apartment. You can’t stay here.” And they usher her straight out the door. Just after they get drunk girl outside, she goes to the neighbor’s duplex and starts hammering on that door.
My friends called the police, reported that a drunk girl was outside and in pretty bad shape and needed some help. Which, while the police stopped by and asked if we knew exactly where she’d gone off to, I think they did find her, and gave her a hand. Probably to the drunk tank, but they might have taken her home.
And this was the second time someone had done this to me. The year before, in my dorm, a total stranger came into my dorm room in pitch black darkness and asked to sleep in my bed. While I was in it.
I don’t drink, so I have many stories of drunken antics.
My first time taking care of someone who was off their face drunk was not long after I’d moved to the UK for university (freshers’ week says it all).
A young woman who is still my friend drank most of a bottle of vodka before we left for the club. I should point out that she was very tall and thin - approximately 5’11 to my 5’4. We were both in heels. The reason for this detail will become evident momentarily.
We get to the club, start dancing and about fifteen minutes in I notice she’s gone missing. I separate from the rest of the pack to go seek her out. She is outside with her head between her knees. She is not feeling well. We begin to walk back to our friends’ flat where we’d left our stuff as well as a friend who didn’t feel like going out that evening.
My friend is swaying like a reed in the wind and I am desperately holding onto her to make sure she doesn’t fall over. This is complicated by the state of the Mancunian roads (we quickly learned why the locals prefer to go out in Doc Martens rather than heels, but it did take a few weeks to make the swap). At one point she declares that she can walk by herself and approaches a lamppost with alarming determination. “Of course you can,” I say soothingly as I guide her around the obstacle.
When we reach the flat, I leave her propped up against the brick wall while I rush inside to get the things. I come back with coats and handbags and find my friend surrounded by men attempting to chat her up despite the fact that she can no longer speak. I beat them off and continue down the path to her home. I get her up the stairs and unlock the door for her.
She promptly takes the key out of the door, slams the door in my face and vanishes. I do not hear from her for the next week.
She was more temperate with her drinking after that.