White Russian: Nights Out
Anyone who drinks in Belfast gets up to stupid shit. However, some factors have been scientifically proven to increase the likelyhood of some Stupid Shit happening on a given night out. They are as follows:
-A medical student is involved.
-Tequila has been involved.
-You have been drinking in Veco's bar.
-You have just finished an exam that day or worse, that morning.
-Items in the bar that could easily fit inside a coat are not nailed down; or at
least not in any serious manner.
-The Kolonel has had Whisky.
-It is Saint Patrick's day
Any combination of any of these factors exponentially increases the chance that we decide to leave the aforementioned bar: sometimes even before we get thrown out.
For example: You are a medical student (me), you have been drinking shots of
tequila and whisky with the Kolonel in The Fly bar. A drinks promoter called
"Harry the Hat" walks past wearing a massive Cat In The Hat style hat.
What do you think is likely to happen?
Correct: we try and nick it.
Harry the Hat
It all happened one Friday night when the team were out for a few Chardonnay's of a Friday night in the Fly bar, Belfast. J-man was off sleazing as usual and the Kolonel and DOV were getting bored. (This is a dangerous scenario - the expression "The Devil makes work for idle hands" is a paraphrase of the more famous saying: "If the White Russian boys are drunk and bored, bad things are about to happen to good people").
So, we waited until Harry (if that is his real name) wandered past the
front door. The plan swung into action like a well oiled weasel:
The Kolonel runs about 10-15 miles a week in the gym, so it was decided that he
would hold the door open while I grabbed the hat and legged it outside and off
to freedom and glory. You may spot the flaw here, in that the runner of the pair
of us was holding the door for me; the man who wouldn't normally run to get to a
well if he was on fire: thus is the nature of drunken logic.
(DOV: one of
natures greatest athletes, and professional darts player in training)
I left my chair and by the time I reached Harry I was at a fast jog. By the time
I reached the door I was running. I passed the bouncers at a sprint, as the
cries of "STOP HIM!" went up from the the artist formally known as
"Harry the Hat".
Things looked good. I essentially had a sprinting head start over 2 bouncers,
and I reckoned if I could make it the 200 yards to the Lisburn road I was scot
free: surely they wouldn't leave the door to get me that far from the bar.
Surely.
I thought.
50 yards from the Lisburn road at a dead sprint and carrying a Hat the size of a
small sofa, I thought to steal a glance back to see how far I had left those
suckers behind. To my surprise, I found this distance to be approximately 2
feet. And closing.
Scarcely have I seen a man more apoplectic with rage as he finally dragged me to
the ground. It turned out that his fat friend was even more upset, since he had
not been able to keep up and therefore arrived out of breath and having lost all
ability for rational thought.
Luckily they were so far from the door that they only managed to rain a few
unsuccessful kicks at my head, but the fat man was too tired to raise his ham
filled leg far. Advantage: DOV.
So: no Hat, no luck. But a good story none the less.
We're not finished though: that hat WILL be mine. Its only a matter of time.
In a fiendish attempt to fool the bouncers and get back into the Fly, DOV spent
4 hours concocting a disguise so cunning that he has now replaced the Fox at the
top of the food chain.
Hope this taster has whet your appettite, but this section is still in its
early stage. Once the other two guys get some photos developed I will bring you
some more. Still to come:
-The White Russian guide to hedge jumping: the sport of Kings
-Van climbing for beginners
-If our legal advisor will allow it, we will bring you a list
of the various items we have "liberated" from bars
And lots more!
You must excuse the shabbiness of this article at the moment, but with the
Kolonel out of his role as Web Designer for the next few months I appear to be
running things.
God help us. God help us all.
The Kolonel looks delighted as he hands over the Website he has spent so long
building to computings answer to the Boston Strangler, DOV.
J-man made a valiant effort to try and stop the hand-over, but was too late. DOV
is in charge for the next while. You're in my world now, suckers!
