Sunday, May 29, 2011

18 to 30s (to 18)


After departing from Fay, I found myself fending for myself for a while. No longer being able to afford the luxury of double rooms, I had to make use of the only financially viable alternative, the hostel dorm room. I would arrive at these establishments and more often than not, find to my horror that the average age is 18, everybody was inflecting the ends of their sentenCES, and that the name of the game was to party. With trepidation I would choose my bed, carefully and strategically lay out my eye blankets and ear plugs on my bedside table, fearful of all night dorm room parties. Then 4am comes round, and the inevitable rattling of the wrong key in the lock, followed by the other wrong key, followed by slamming of door against wall, a drunken, shouted, giggly whisper of 'SHORRY', trying to get into the wrong bed, missing the toilet bowl, turning on the main light, eating crisps... Eventually though, through my drunken haze, I do usually identify my own bed and clamber into it and then annoy my 'roomies' all the more by getting up early doors and moaning about my poor head. Poor Ollie.

1 comment:

  1. Glad to see it back… I am still confident of getting us a book deal… miss you guys loads xxx

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