One Rock’n’Roll Too Many ~ or ~ knackered before the party’s even begun


I don’t know what happened to the guy who’d work hard and play even harder, I think I left him holding a kebab one night outside Chicken Joe’s. Wherever he has gone he’s left behind a bloke who can no longer down beer bongs, rack up the shots and take all sorts of substances to keep the night rolling on in top gear. He’s left and now I remain.

I can’t pinpoint when it happened, when I stopped being that guy who’d be the last to crash, the last to puke or the last saddo hanging delicately to the barstool talking absolute gibberish. I think it’s been a progressive thing over the last half decade, something that slowly crept in. I don’t think the recession helped. I mean it’s not like I can afford to blow a whole weeks wage in one night anymore.

The funny thing is that I don’t really care that I’m turning into an old fart before my time. If you had told me five years ago that by the time I was 30 I’d be quite happy to have a few quiet drinks at home instead of head out on the town and cause anarchy my foot would have become very well acquainted with your ass. If you had told me that after partying for two weekends on the trot that I’d be reduced to a shade then I’d have spat my drink in your face as I called to the barman for another.

I look back at what seems like a whole decade of half remembered nights and all I can think is I’m glad I got all that out of my system. I survived the abuse and reached the age of 27 and I remember breathing a sigh of relief when I hit 28. Amy Winehouse wasn’t so lucky but then she’d been at it even harder than me. I guess I feel lucky to have survived with little more than a bruised ego.

As I write this I am pondering what my plans are for New Years Eve. The way I feel right now I could honestly just sit in the living room, drink a few beers and finish with a whisky nightcap watching Jools Holland’s Annual Hootenanny. Yep, that definitely sounds better than heading out into a freezing cold night and spending a fortune on tickets, drinks and taxis.

My 25-year-old self would have looked in horror at the prospect of spending NYE at home but I suppose we all have to grow up some time and for me that time is now.

Have a nice relaxing Christmas everyone!

DR

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