Burnley 1987...
And so - in the company of a chap from my village, Chris and a cnut from college [called Nigel], we jollied along to the first College Disco Night of the year, held in salubrious [for Burnley] nightspot "The Cats' Whiskers" which you can easily imagine being full of badly-dressed 30's somethings trying to pull on a Saturday night...

At this point in my education at College, neither my peers nor myself had found a reliable drinking hole where we could buy booze with impunity, and while aware the afternoons, playing pool and abusing the jukebox [although this did come pretty soon afterwards - and much fun The Talbot was too...]

History lesson aside, we 3 rocked up to the door to find that the clubs' management had rather mercenarily changed their entrance policy. Of course, lots of tickets had been sold to under 18's but only the 18's and over were being let in...

Curses! Not being of the required age, we decided between us that we couldn't let the evening come to an early end and headed off for a Curry, and all the booze that came with it. And the booze was, Pernod [and strangely], White Wine.
Pernod and White Wine is a funny combination of drinks for lashing it up. Doesn't taste so bad on the way down but had catastrophic effects for me when heading in the other direction.

The Koohi-Noor Restaurant in Burnley, just by Burnley Mechanics Institute is perched about 1/2 way up a rather steep hill road. Out of it we duly poured ourselves once the Curry and drinks were done, and proceeded to head back down to the centre of town [at some speed, in my case, don't know why...]

At the bottom of the hill, my need to purge my bladder kicked in, and the only available receptacle available too me was the letterbox of some 80's Mens' "fashion" store [remember, it's Burnley - Fosters was a big deal up North in those days...] Sorry folks....

After this, my memory is rather cheesy [full of holes], but the upshot of what happened next is that Chris and myself accquired a cab back to my village, a distance of some 8 miles. When not far from home, I decided that [this being a Black Cab], it'd be a good idea to use up some of the smokes I bought by lighting them and throwing them, dart-like, at Chris. After I'd been talked out of doing this, there was only one more thing left to do. Curry and Booze had come with a Return Ticket, and were now cashing in on the second leg of their journey. It seemed perfectly natural to me, once I'd pulled myself out of the gap between the seat and the door that I'd managed to collapse myself into, to lean over to my right and deposit the contents of my guts into Chris' lap. Repeatedly.

He was shocked, more than angry. But being a big chap, there was lots of target to aim for.

By this time we'd arrived in our Village, the cab driver was throwing a blue fit, and feeling rather relieved post-purge I happily set off home, claiming I was going to make a coffee, and would Chris like one?
(caescarna Hell's Roomba, Mon 11 Jan 2010, 8:20, Reply)