And then I had a (not so) little drink…

Note (1): I know that this post is well overdue. It's way much more overdue than my credit card payment, actually! Which (sneaky suspicion creeping up...) may be why the bank manager's got a contract out on my head! Overdue it is. And (modesty apart.... ppppfft!) I think it's worth it! (Said in manner of a certain supermodel in the ad campaign of certain hair products...)

Note (2): Some background on this post (you're gonna need it so keep reading): Since I cannot, for the sake of me moblog (Why dear God, why? WHY?), I have written the following post as an SMS on my mobile and saving it as a draft. (There I am manipulating technology to suit ME! My plans for world domination may be realised after all! Ha ha ha! (Ominously. Then, teeeee heeeee! in fits of hysterical outbreak which are likely to land me at the farm!)

Note (3): This is a long post. Not boring, but voluminous - sounds better, like saying not fat, but voluptuous. What I mean is, get some snacks and beverages ready (lo fat AND lo cal if you’re voluptuous), we don’t want you withering away in front of your computer!

- Opens mobile and is about to start typing new message.

Hang on, waitress is coming and absolutely must have food as have drunk (vide title and await insane explanation to follow.)

- Bdejna bit-tajjeb. (Maltese for: So much for starting on the right foot.)

Am at a party. Alone. And I don't know anyone here, despite being in Malta. So am moblogging after a non functional fashion (ie saving my post as a draft SMS message on my mobile.) Very me – particularly the non functional part. Seen any loose cannons lately, anyone?

Is it possible that I know nobody at wedding in Malta ?

Yes. Contrary to popular, indeed perhaps also logical expectation, it is! ‘Bloody Marvellous’, to quote Uncle Benny in Lethal Weapon 4, who was also v inebriated when he said it! (Again, vide title!)

Hang on, good looking guy is passing! (V good looking? Or is he just average, but looking better due to the drink?)

- Lordy, lordy, lord!

Typical! Is with someone (female, tarty-looking broad. Poss his gf (girlfriend)? Obviously he has no taste in women. Or rather he does have taste but its v V baaaad! Eeek!)

Better start putting you dear readers in the picture, as I assume that you must be pretty confused by now.

- You and me both! Heqqq hmmmm... (sounds of choking, stifled laughter, gagging. Big banging sounds in background. Commotion ends abruptly.)

Came to pahtay alone as all men I know are: busy, abroad, coupled, gay, mad or missing in action (and they’d better pray that they ain’t found til I’m done raving and ranting). Brilliant! (Note bitter sarcasm in self's voice.) But had to come to the bash as it was a friend's plus I hadn't had the brains to give her the pressie earlier. (Me, being the genius that I am – NOT!)

Will take a moment of pause to gather self's so as to focus on the point of entire post.

- Moment of pause to gather self's thoughts broken by commotion. Getting louder and more rauchous. (There, have managed to use a word from my word-a-day-calendar. Although whether said word has been used correctly is another matter altogether.)

Gawd! Need food as am done for and poss totally smashed. Funny how when in desperate need, one becomes transparent to waiters!

- She meant to say invisible, not transparent. Chuh!

Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!

- Loud crashing sound in background. What is it now! Did you have to scare me like that?

Maybe am dead and do not know it, in manner of Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense. Ooops, nearly toppled over in stiletto heels, so am not dead (too undignified even for ghost to topple over in heels!) Phew!

Yesss, waitress coming my way with food. Of some sort, anyway. Cannot be choosy as am on the brink of an insane drunk episode, methinks. Better feed the alcohol demon by eating. Wonder whether finger food will keep the alcohol demon at bay. V doubtful but no harm in trying.

Awwwww! Just bit into smouldering feta cheese and gherkin fried-in-lipsmacking-batter thingy which has burnt self's mouth.

Double damn. Now need another drink to cool down! You see! This is how perfectly normal people unintentionally get drunk when having an episode, for which they are in no way to blame.

- Erm yes. She just wants another drink, doesn’t she now?

Yes. Need another drink! Need? Want? Pffaff! Yes, that and another cigarette. Shit.

- Oi. Watch your language you. A lady dressed in such a pretty number has no business with those words. And show some respect for your readers, will you?.

Pause. Self checks whether self’s superego is hitting on self (what the heck would that mean? Damn Freud!) / being too bossy / needs a lesson in NOT telling me how to behave in such a mess! Large fight ensues. Screams. Crockery (from where?) smashing. Sounds of sword-fight. People hanging off large wrought iron chandelier. Sound of chandeliers plummeting to the ground. Fall of chandelier broken by fictional being (i.e. self’s superego) previously swinging off it. Werewolf-like howling. Superego gives in and starts sobbing uncontrollably. Leaves self alone to be mollycoddled by Id.

On way to bar spot the only person I know in here (male specimen; IQ of an unstamped, empty, pictureless postcard; attractiveness negligible; human qualities unspecified.) Of course the only person I know would also be the only person on the planet who I do not want to speak to! Humph! Zen nil; Art of serendipity, five.

Engage in evasive tactics. Side step to get out of his line of sight. Damn! Have been intercepted. Where is Sun Zsu when you need the bugger?

“Hi ‘dahlinggg!” he makes a big deal of greeting me. I whinge, repulsed by what’s to come. The dreaded. The inevitable.

- Brace yourself.

Nooooo. Should I scream and make a run for it?

- No this is neither the time nor the place for it. Plus you’re wearing skyscraper stilettos. You’ll never make it out of here in one piece.

Ok. Being brave. Here goes.

“Mwaaaah! Mwaaah!”

His obligatory kisses on my cheek (which I make it perfectly clear will not be returned as am merely being gracious recipient of unwanted attention) last for three seconds. Three seconds too long.

“Lemme get you a drink, babe! What’re you having?”

Just let me say (possibly for the first time in my life) is thank the good heavens above for alcohol. We will gloss over the ‘babe’ thingy, so as not to cause specimen any grievous bodily harm / instant death.

The git returns with my drink of choice – the largest rum and cola in all of Christendom. Yesss! Am feeling v much like have been caught up in some serious BJ tragicomic incident, yet am ever so slightly less poised under pressure. Tee hee!. Really, just sipping at the drink. (Desperately wish was not dressed in pretty sleeveless dress, which A-lines down to the floor - so graceful, so flowing! Would be undignified to gulp at drink. Yes, definitely undignified. Therefore will have to have many many sips, in very very rapid machine-gun-bullet-peppering-style succession.)

“Hang on! That’s not who I think it is, is it?” he gasps as I cringe.

Can I possibly deal with another of his ilk? No, hell no!

- And for once, there we agree.

Bloody marvellous! Now shut up, you in my head. Must leave brain free to think a way out of this mess.

He saunters over to a girl, who reminds me terribly of Paris Hilton, although she looks nothing like her (which is clearly not to say that she looks bad.) The socialite we shall call her (because; a. that’s what she reminds me of and b. I couldn’t be bothered to remember her name) tries to engage in some type of conversation with me and the git.

But I have other plans for the girl. Does the word ‘decoy’ ring a bell? Whoooohoooo for Sun Tzu! (Said in manner of high-school cheerleader.)

I uttered a couple of ‘uh huh!s’ and ‘oh yesses’ in between life-saving sips of rum (the real dark one, mind you!) and cola. No sooner had my drink evaporated (really have no idea where it wound up. Is great mystery of Maya and Inca civilisation calibre! I offered to bring them drinks, which is exactly I made a dash to the open air area of the pahtay, mingling in with the crowd, in manner of uberspy infiltrating some hi risk poker players in a highly classified covert operation. (I will v possibly use this material for the next Bond, James Bond film – the remake of the Casino Royale…)

I went outside for another cigarette and decided that this episode was one for the blog! Which is where this post starts. Maybe the drink was too strong - no maybe about it. Suspicions verified by fact that I kept on mis-spelling words in my draft smses (this is my fifth) and having to re type them. V annoying.

And that’s how, in v zen like manner, things sorted themselves out. Better go make my way home in stealth-mode, before git comes looking for his drink or a trendy way to bum a cigarette!