What do you do once you finally get in?
Sleep surely.
Nope not David.
I'm not even trying to big myself up for this one either. Since both Martin and Will decided to go to sleep (it had been a long day) i wanted to go for a quiet walk to see the sights. I should have realised it would go dreadfully wrong due to the fact our hotel was next to the irish centre and all its fine bars and clubs.
As I made the 2 minute walk towards the centre I was stopped by a black prostitute. These thieving whores would make many appearances on my holiday with the climax of our run in's the famous robbery that took place which I generally deserved due to me being totally fucked. But tonight all they did was attempt to persuade me for some sexual antics behind a dumpster.
Let me paint a picture of these women. Fat, Black, Sweaty, Greasy haired whores. You could literally smell the exrement on them. Even though I was sober i would have forced them to pay me a large amount of money (possibly a million quid) for me to even contemplate sleeping with them. I would then have been forced to eliminate them from the planet and bathe in some toxic waste to totally cleanse myself.
Sober David panicked and ran away from the whores and into the welcoming arms of....an irish man advertising a bar who ushered me into a bar. It all felt so welcoming and a relief to have an irish angel to free me from the filthy whores outside. Plus he offered me 2 for 1 on drinks and 2 free shots. This felt like good business in the credit crunch....
I surveyed my situation. I was trapped in an irish karaoke bar. I was alone with 2 very strong doubles (in Gran Canaria the vodka takes up about 70% of the glass- no shit). Around me were irritatingly loud families and bad singers who kept taking the stage denying the fact they couldn't sing. Aren't holidays hilarious for the amount of tits who think because they're in a different country and drunk they can suddenly sing bat out of hell and "i would walk 10000 miles". But i didn't care. I'd just arrived on holiday. I had cheap drinks.
Obviously my body wasn't used to the strength of the vodkas and suddenly it felt a good idea to climb the stairs in the building and go to the night club on top. It was 2am.
The night club was reasonably busy considering it was late September. The sights around me were comical. Girls slutting it up by dancing like whores around each other wearing nothing but bikinis (i love bitter David) and idiot guys passed out on the tables waking up only to attempt to pull a girl. It was a train wreck. Suddenly I looked reasonably normal as i sat alone drinking more doubles.
When she showed up.
The Irish Angel. Aofie.
She beckoned me over with her friend who were on the table in front. At no point did i consider I would have a chance with such an "angel of the night". It was a correct assumption. But that didn't matter. She was fit. She was irish. I was alone in a night getting further drunk. Now when i returned home i would look like a hero to all those around me by the sheer fact i'd be hammered and have photos of me and fit girls.
After every double The RoonMeister was slowly appearing on the scene until the bastard arrived with a full force. Suddenly I was buying shots for everyone on my table. People began to cheer my name. I couldn't understand the majority of what people were saying due to the accents but regardless as i told will later on whilst drunk "I fucking loved it".
Next up came Irish Brian. It was his last night in Gran Canaria. For some reason I got his phone number. What a legend. I remember ripping the shit out of everyone else in the bar with Brian. If I was a woman i'd even do Brian. That accent alone made me weak at my knees. I saw the moves Brian was making on the angel Aofie. Unfortunately I was not a good partner in crime for Brian as at this point i was too drunk and confused to fuck off and leave the two of them. I remained half collapsed up against the window.
I even got Aofies number though it turned out later to be fake. Cock blocked and humiliation. I later saw her again and she bought me a shot of tequila. She maintained the number to be correct and gave me her bebo to add her. I didn't have bebo but for fucking Aofie i'd have a bebo. She has requested my friendship so the jury is still out on the phone number. I tend to believe her due to the fact she's republic of ireland. I was attempting to call an irish number, from an english mobile which was on a spanish network. At least thats my story and i'm sticking to it.
Eventually i got onto the fact that Aofie and Brian wanted a quiet night and collapsed into my room. It was 5am. In the process waking Will up. This would be a largely reoccuring theme for that poor bastard who would be forced to share a room with me. I woke him up knocking on the door drunkenly and telling him my stories of fine doubles and hot girls.
He looked at me puzzled at how my walk descended into a 5 hour binge drinking session with about 6 irish people. I had no answers to the questions. I would spend the rest of my holiday attempting to reveal these truths.
I think from this point i never hit the perfect drunk-sober level. Emotion and anger would set in during future nights. Whilst some of the people i spoke to this first night i would see around again and they'd blank me due to the fact on the future nights i was way too hammered. On this night it all worked. I was THE MAN.
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