Something about house parties is that they live on a completely different time zone to "every shop that sells alcohol" in the known universe. House parties are the moon and off licenses are the sun, and never do you see them in the sky at the same time, so basically once you finish the five cans you bought and pour yourself a kind of jamjar-glass thing full of Tia Maria you’re running on dregs and it all gets a bit feral.
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Consider the people around you in the wider party: are they holding alcohol? Do they have a secret little stash bag behind one of the sofas? Or are they as edgy and needy for booze as you? You are at that tipping point: too drunk for this to maintain without a crash, not drunk enough to keep partying, don’t want to go home, know that if you leave to try and find a shop you will lose the buzz altogether. You need inventory. Get in the cupboards below the sink and behind the cereal. Find whatever spirits and mixers you can find. And that’s how you come to, 3AM and staring blurrily out of the kitchen window, drinking a short Disaronno and squash. Come on, mate. Even you’re better than this. Home time.YOU HAVE SORT OF WON FRIDAY NIGHT BUT I'M NOT SURE WE CAN PUT THIS DOWN AS A COMPLETE VICTORY
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