The next time someone suggests a drunken night out, I am so suggesting better places than the one we went to on Friday. Is it even possible to wake up the next day with your hair hurting along with the rest of your body?!

So this place we went to did not play my kind of music, except for that one Blink 182 song. The rest were, well, mainstream chart-toppers from the late 80s, 90s and whatever’s hot right now. Nothing gives me a bigger headache than Nelly Furtado.

Then there were the men, who were all so pathetic and seedy it was laughable. One of them even had stalker potential with the Norman Bates-like expression while trying to dance his way into Carina’s pants. Let’s not even start with the man old enough to be everyone’s father.

I always thought Barney (from How I Met Your Mother) was legendary. Clearly, that Barney is. The Barney-clone that sidled up and tried to grab my ass was not. Unfortunately, with my bad habit for people-watching, this wasn’t a place to dish out 5-minute psychoanalyses. Glance at a guy in the wrong direction and he’ll immediately think it’s an invitation to get it on.

Did I mention someone spilled beer down my back? YUCK.

It was good fun, don’t get me wrong, but I think everything (but the men) started to look better after oh, the fifth Cocksucking Cowboy? Thankfully we were properly inebriated by the time… someone… arrived. Mel and I exchanged looks and carried on dancing, occassionally calling for more tequila shots to numb the horrifying knowledge of The Latecomer. How she managed to even find us remains a mystery.

Things didn’t turn out too bad, but I’m quite sure Mel was quite annoyed at The Latecomer who called her a skank simply for dancing with a guy. Good lords, so was Carina, Liza and myself, but we didn’t get crap for it because we weren’t engaged. Puh-leese, Ryan didn’t even care when Mel told him.

Of course this was one of the few unpleasant incidents that occurred with The Latecomer, but we did our best to brush it off in the name of having a good time. We finished off the night morning with burgers and chips before Ryan picked us up (minus The Latecomer). Ryan insisted that he drop Carina and I off at my car because he didn’t like us walking in the middle of the night. A lovely, considerate man with much more common sense than The Latecomer, obviously.

Dropped Carina home before heading back to shower from head to toe. The next morning everything hurt and my brain did not function at flamenco. Just my luck that the class was taken by the Principal. Madame was not impressed. Was it all worth it? Ask me when my hair stops hurting. In two weeks.