I know I have been a bad blogger as of late, but the last few months of Uni have stretched me to my limits and finding the time to sit and write for leisure's sake rather than for the needs of my course was an impossibility unfortunately. However, Uni is now over and I am now off out into the world of work (I shall keep you posted on the job hunt over the following weeks) - but until the eagerly awaited day comes when a great company decides they simply cannot function without me and snaps me up as their latest recruit, I have the time to dedicate to my writing here on Twenty-one and Invincible.
So...I'm back and boy have I got a story for you! Having been invisibly tied to my computer for the last two months on an almost permanent basis I decided that my first week as an official ex-student should be spent catching up with my friends, who I have to admit I had neglected whilst in my darkest hours of facing many looming deadlines. So first stop was a drink in my local with the lads.
As it was a Sunday, I was hardly expecting it to be a mad one, but certain people had other ideas! On arrival I found one of my friends to be suffering the pitfalls of that old chestnut "one too many" - he was loud, lairy and somewhat out of control, so his car keys were confiscated and he was sent up to one of the B&B rooms to sleep it off. So that was one of us down and out already, and it had barely gone 9 o'clock!
As the night progressed, the drinks flowed and frivolity took over. The pub had the jukebox blaring and myself and some other pub-goers got up for a dance. There was lots of silliness and a fair bit of banter - even some impromptu pole dancing lessons of behalf of myself and a very fit and healthy 60 year-old - but it was all in good fun, and everyone was having a good time.
Little did we know that the devil "one too many" was about to rear it's ugly head again so soon. What follows next is still a little bit of blur, as it happened too fast for me to register, so you will have to bare with me. I was propped up on the bar, rooting around in my bag for my phone or lipgloss or something of the like, when I felt this heavy weight press down on my left shoulder. It was so heavy in fact that my knees gave way and I struggled not to fall off my 6-inch heels! I looked over my shoulder to tell whoever it was leaning on me to remove themselves, when I heard this almighty smash and was immediately showered with bits of broken glass and china.
At this point I think I was momentarily in shock as I tried to register what had happened. The pub had gone completely silent and all eyes were on me and the destruction that now surrounded me. I turned around to find a drunken fool grinning like a Cheshire cat at the antique lamp hanging above my head which he had just smashed into a million pieces. I did not see how this had happened of course, but was informed later that this gentleman had been attempting some Jackie Chan moves and had round-house kicked the lamp over my head, whilst using me as a prop to help propel himself off the floor!
Once the immediate shock of being showered in broken glass had worn off and I had checked I was not cut or bleeding, I suddenly realised how incredibly lucky I was not to have been seriously injured. If I had turned to look over my other shoulder at the exact moment that this fool had kicked the lamp this story might be a very different one, as my face would have been towards the barrage of broken china and glass and I could have been scarred for life or even blinded. Upon realising this I think it is fair to say I lost my temper quite a bit, and though I shall not detail the ins and outs of my torrent here, the gentleman it was aimed at got the very clear impression that I was not best pleased with his actions. He was, of course, escorted from the pub by several friends of mine, who were not too pleased with his sudden out burst of material arts either.
As silly as it may sound in hindsight, I could not get over how lucky I had been. If the glass had hit my face instead of the back of my head who knows the lasting damage it could of caused. For simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time I could be suffering from a serious injury now, and that really is just unthinkable.
Thankfully I wasn't seriously hurt, just a little shaken up by how reckless some people can be when they've been drinking. This man was well into his forties and may possibly have had children not far from my age, yet he had little to no concern for my well-being at all. He knew full well that I was right underneath the lamp he was about to smash to pieces and even held on to me whilst he did it, so there was never any chance that I wouldn't have ended up covered in broken glass. We all do stupid things under the influence of alcohol; many of us will have woken up and remembered sending an embarrassing text to an ex, mixing up your words as you try to talk or even falling over due to your inebriation - but the only person that is really affecting is yourself. I have never caused harm to another person because of what I have had to drink, and I would like to think I never will.
It is these little incidents that make you realise that "one too many" is not always just the cause of some rather outrageous banter; sometimes it can be the reason why someone ends up seriously hurt, and as a forty-something he should really have known better. I did receive a lovely big bunch of flowers the following day by way of an apology, but I still think that the gentleman in question needs to consider the fact that his drunken tom-foolery could have resulted in a very nasty situation, and it was not just himself that he could have ended up hurting. So much for a quiet drink in the pub ay!
