i'm an adult instructor with the air training corps (air cadets to you rebel motherfuckers) and have been since my Army service, basically on and off since i was a cadet back in the day.
The only thing is the bastard squadron decides to hold its annual Christmas camp the weekend just gone... the same weekend as my work Christmas. So i confer with the Boss of the ATC squadron, and work out that he has the same drama, and we can meet up on the saturday morning, and he can drive me down to the training area... good drills, it will leave me enough time to get merrily plastered on friday, and still be completely sober for saturday morning... so i thought!
So this is the way it went down.
I arrived for work just before 9am, after travelling across the width of the glorious city of London, on the central line, standing back to back, stomach to stomach, and closer than i'd really like to with people of dubious bodily hygiene. After escapeing the mosh pit of the london underground i fought my way to the surface and made it through the bitterly cold winter air to the shop floor. Deisng jobs, and website amends all day (apart from a breif run to the snack wagon to find a dripping bacon, sausage, egg and fried onion baguette with plenty of ketchup... you need some fuel if your gonna be on the drink that night). Anyway, we work on later, waiting for a few ex-colleagues to turn up, and finally leave the shop at 6pm. Straight to the Castle in North Acton for a bevvie or twelve. nigh on 15 pints of Guinness (and to their credit they pour a nice pint at the castle) ano no food later, i decide its best to stagger home to collect my kit for the weekend. I'm sitting on the scarcely populated underground chatting merrily to my boss, and generally having a good craic, when he offers me a chicken salsa wrap... and me like some kind of idiot, consumes it with gusto... Its as the train clutter from the gloomy platform of Marble Arch that the salty water from my stomach starts to fill my mouth. I knew then what was going to happen... but decided that the best course was to do absolutely nothing... I emptied my stomach as we pulled into Oxford Circus. MY boss could not control laughter as pints of Guinness and pieces of chicken (which i destinctly remembered chewing!) spilled over the lino floor. I couldnt contain my embarrasment, and got off the train and waited for the next one. At Bethnal Green i got off... and spewed what small amount of content was left in my aching stomach onto the platofrm... much to the anger of the Nigerian Cleaner lady... who at one point i was sure was going to insert her mop into me... I staggered home, and fell asleep somewhere near my bed. I woke with the mother of all headaches... It was not a hangover, and i was completely sober, however the dehydration from the alcohol and the vomiting had taken its toll... and after a fry-up and two apspirins I was right as rain... until i arrived at the training area and had 30 screamng kids to deal with... but thats another story for now!!!
The moral??? Dont drink without eating something... in fact just dont drink...
