Worst first impression ever.
This is loosely based on pubs but I'm told it's entertaining so I'll post it here for your reading pleasure.

Basically, it was Jane's (name changed as I'm still trying to hit that but if she does read it, she'll know it's me), who I'd known for nearly two weeks, birthday and she was having people over hers. I was invited, and as I liked her I was definitely going to go.

No-one else I knew was going so I thought, "Right, before I go, a quick drink at the pub to grease the old charm muscles". This quickly turned into three. So anyway, I leave the pub (told you it was loose), get there, but not feeling drunk, probably due to the bitter coldness and the 20 minute walk there.

So, I get there and me being me, I'm on time, or to everyone else, early. This of course means that the girls aren't ready. Luckily some of her mates from home are there and we crack on with a bit of PES. Having taken a bottle of vodka and some lemonade, I am in need of a glass. The only thing they have is one of those shitty small plastic cups. I make do.

I drink quickly at the best of times but with a small glass and not knowing anyone, I may have drunk slightly quicker than normal. Once we stopped playing PES, stuff happened that I don't remember. I remember talking to Jane in the kitchen at some point but can't remember around this incident.

Next thing I know I'm running upstairs towards the toilet. It's there, I can see it, I head towards the door when I can't keep it in any longer and I throw up on the carpet. Shit. Damage control. No-one's here, grab some toilet roll and do as best you can to clean it up.

Ok, so far so good, you're not doing too badly. Then Jane's housemate sees me. Said housemate, I have been informed since, gets angry quickly. She tells me to get out but I'm adamant to clean up, I'm trying to be nice. She continues to tell me to get out, and not wanting a slap, I head downstairs. Next thing I remember I'm outside with Jane who's telling me I shouldn't come out. I naturally agree. I should also mention at this point that it can't be far gone 11pm. Time to go home. I'm accompanied most of the way home but some of Jane's friends but since talking to her about this she's adamant that there was no-one with me. I didn't even know it was possible to hallucinate from alcohol.

From this point on all my memories have been recounted to me by my housemates. I walk in the door and collapse on the sofa. My housemates are playing SingStar. "Fucking ace!" I think and I'm determined to sing along. Unfortunately my angel-like harmonies are disrupted by my dry heaving. One of my housemates tries to get me to go to bed but I'm convinced I'll be better off on the sofa. My memory comes back when I awake at around 5am. I head upstairs and fall back asleep in my bed. I wake up at a time since forgotten but suffering the worst Hangover [capitalised for it was definitely such a bad hangover it deserves to be nounified] I've ever had. It was so bad, I considered going to hospital.

And that is the story of my worst first impression ever.
(Martin1337 was trying and failing to be funny at, Fri 6 Feb 2009, 2:46, Reply)