The Inflatables

Here comes another story of drunken antics courtesy of myself and the "Hawkers", so apologies if you were looking for a change of subject in this thing I call my blog. This Summer has a particular pattern surrounding it. The adventures of the cricket season. The arduous and painstakingly long times at work. And the ridiculous habits of an intoxicated Mitten, and his merry followers.

I don't know what's happened to the night life in Bedford recently, but it's all become a bit surreal. Of course, a couple of weeks back, there was that week with rather insane additions in Saints that involved a lot of water, most of which ended up in my shoes, and then the 'Jagerbomb contest'. Now it seems, we are about to enter the 'It's A Knockout' stage. Quite literally. After a rather hurried pre-drinking session, which began with Magic Man rigging the deck of cards in favour of Beddoe getting the worst cards imaginable, naturally, and your average game of 'Ring of Bye', we were on our way to town. For some reason, due to unstable economic times in the wallets of all of us, we decided to use our own feet and walk to town. The phone calls that were made on this journey are too detailed and ... strange to get into. In short, I left the house in an apparently fine state. By the time I reached town, I was halfway to the Land of the Drunks. Well. I say, "halfway"...

When we reached the famed Bedford High Street, it didn't seem entirely busy. Ok, it was a Wednesday night, so we were not expecting it to be packed to the rafters, but it did seem genuinely... empty. I feared the worst. After finding a cash machine to release the last of the money I have, we went to Mitten Tree to top up on cheap(ish) drinks, where I also believe Kettle, Moo and Cob had their dosage of our dear cousins Mr Wray and Mr Nephews. Even the smell of that stuff leads me to physically gag. In a bottle of Wray and Nephews, I see flashes of an ambulance, the smell of a hospital, and the sounds of a vomiting man.

We spent a fair bit of time in that place. After welcoming Colin into our drinking party, for what he claimed was going to be, "a quick one", we headed off to Elements, (a change of scenery!), after hearing of a strange phenomonon within the compounds of the place! By this time, I was a good drunk, a happy drunk, as were many others. It still wasn't as busy as I would have liked, but beggars can't be choosers. I choose that line, simply because I hadn't spent a single penny of my money by the time we left Mitten Tree. I had bought 2 shots of Wray, with the change kindly offered by Mother Mitten's Pig, and manipulated everyone else into buying me 4 Jagerbombs, 2 shots of Corky's, a JD and coke and a VK.

Next series of The Apprentice maybe?

We reached Elements and paid a measly £2 to get in, (unfortunately, I had no choice but to delve deep into my wallet and fish out a £2 coin), and walked in to be greeted by what can only be described, as a bouncy castle. Now. Bouncy castles when your sober, are a lot of fun. Maybe I do sound like a bit of a peadophile saying that, but even if I am now in my 20's, you cannot deny that they are enjoyable! When you're drunk however, they are the absolute best thing to be in, bar nothing. Chuck in 2 pairs of the biggest boxing gloves you're ever going to see, plus a pair of really heavy headgear, that you couldn't see out of, and you have yourself the strangest event you're ever going to experience in a night club. Naturally, I had to have a go, so coaxed Kettle over from the bar, and all of a sudden, I was boxing. In a bouncy castle. Blind. In a nightclub. What sort of dream was I having here?

I won. Ok, I knocked Kettle down and then kept him down by punching him whilst he was on the floor while the man with the whistle counted to 10, but in Nightclub Rules, that goes down as a win. It was quite possibly the most tiring and scariest thing I have ever done. Bear in mind this huge headgear I was wearing, allowed very little room for sight, so you were practically boxing blind in a bouncy castle. Later on, I had a bout with Beddoe, but by this stage I could hardly stand on my own two feet whilst on solid ground, let alone on a bouncy castle wearing two boulders on my hands. I was a sitting duck during that match, and he knocked me down around 7 times! I stupidly, and somehow, managed to get up 6 times, but the 7th punch might aswell have genuinely knocked me out, and I was done. Kippered.

For the rest of the night, I went around trying to manipulate people into buying me drinks, and just dancing like the waster I am! When that didn't work as well as I had hoped, I went to the bar and stole them. Some guy was buying 10 or so Vodka Red Bulls and 5 VK's to himself, so I helped him out a bit and nicked 2 of each. He was already ruined, and obviously didn't notice, and he wouldn't need all that! My act of generosity may well have saved his life! Frankly, I deserve a knighthood.

It probably goes without saying I didn't need any more drink, and after a brief trip to Mario's, where Magic Man very kindly bought me a chicken burger and a bottle of much needed water, (that ended up being chucked at someone), we decided to walk home. Well, again, I say, "walk"... "Stumble home" may well be a better definition. Halfway home, I decided to "sod it", and ring a cab anyway.

I got home at 4:15, which is always good, and managed to lock the unlockable door, which didn't please Mother Mitten one bit, when I ended up ringing the doorbell. Never mind! The hangover today has been just about bearable, (I don't usually get them, amazingly), and I have spent the whole day being rather lazy.

In summary, good night.


P.S. If you've got a spare moment, follow my friend Clarky's world adventures as he starts his new photography job, travelling the length of the globe! http://cruisingclarky.blogspot.com/