Thursday night….a school night..and there I am ‘twatted’, (drunk that is…not a Welsh person’s name).
I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since Christmas Day, partly because the situation hasn’t arisen, and also because I’ve been dosed up on steroids, and the new medication for arthritis (Mincer’s Hip).
So I really needed a good night out and a chance to let my hair down with the husband and a few friends. Feeling like hermits in recent weeks, just the thought of leaving the house gave us the opportunity to have a good pluck of those eyebrows and trim our bushes. The hair on my chest was longer than the hair on my head!
Karaoke at the Rose and Crown…yes I know…true to stereotype, but I do like a good belter and since giving up smoking, Im sounding more and more like Gary Barlow every day..so it would be rude not to get smashed and bang out a few crowd-pleasers to our adoring fans.
Our friend Kerry arrived and we made haste into town without so much as a warm up drink, (we had no mixers). We were shortly joined by Rick, Ross, Katy and her mate…who I’m ashamed to say I was too drunk to catch her name.. I’ll call her…erm.. Lesbian.
You always know when Ross arrives that it’s going to be a messy night, and true to form we downed a few shots along with the obligatory Vodka and Diet Cokes, and started to form our own band. Rick had brought his air guitar, Kerry threw some shapes and we all lip synced for our lives to everyone else songs. The husband and I also had a good go at murdering George Michael. (I realise how terribly insensitive and premature it is to say that….but I meant ‘Don’t let the sun go down on me’)
Half way through the night we were treated to an elongated interval of ‘Play your cards right’. When the 14th contestant still hadn’t won, it was time to disrupt proceedings by setting off the fire alarm with my super vaping e-cig. The Manager came round with the search committee, looking for the culprit and promptly challenged me on whether I had been vaping directly under the fire alarm.
“Of course not!”, I confirmed …as I peered through the cloud of smoke… like Diane Fossey in “Gorillas in the Mist”
Nevertheless… my plan seemed to work and the air-guitar was go again! A bit of Girls Aloud, Steps and some 80s nostalgia, that only I seemed to know the words to, because everyone else is like…12 years old.
At the end of the night the music stopped and we were sat pondering which taxi firm to order, that would take us home,via McDonalds,when suddenly our saviour … Kathy Beale arrived to our rescue. Obviously not the real Kathy Beale, but we’ve seen her there a few times and…well..she bloody looks likes her. Kathy said she would take us home via McDonalds in return for an apple pie….you can’t say fairer than that. (Albeit we were a little wary as we knew Kathy had ‘previous’ for ‘looking after men’ in cars)
While Kathy fetched the car from the car -park we sat and observed a pikey couple having a lover’s tiff. I think he’d tried to grab her…this was in Hemel Hempstead…not Appleby Horse Fair.
We honoured our promise of apple pie for Kathy Beale and also a large meal each, 20 nuggets and mozzarella dippers ..you don’t like to be rude. We sped home, said farewell to Kathy, ate our food and collapsed where we sat.
The next morning, the flashbacks started to come through and we vaguely recalled the Eastenders star taking us home, when the realisation suddenly kicked in. My husband had left his phone in Kathy Beale’s car. How would we find it? We didn’t know who this lady really was, or where she lived but I was suddenly transported into the 21st century.
Within 30 minutes of realising our loss, and with the help of modern technology…we had found Kathy Beale (real name Sarah…huge disappointment), and the phone was safely returned. The ‘Find my iPhone’ app took us to her house and we instantly recognised her car, we had managed to find her on Facebook via mutual friends and got hold of her phone number.
She came to the door in her best dressing gown with bed- hair like ‘Linda La Hughes’ …all of a sudden she didn’t look like Kathy Beale anymore.
Needless to say we got his phone back and returned home to enjoy our hangovers.
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