The Dodge

We dodged a hangover this week.

A four bottle, “school night”, birthday celebration that should have really stung – but it just never materialised type of hangover.

The sort of hangover dodge that makes you panic. The fear sets in – are we still drunk? Is it hiding? Is this the quiet before the inevitable toilet hugging storm?

Come, now – DO YOUR WORST!

It all started innocently enough. A quiet meal to celebrate A’s birthday, that ended up with a clink of empties being hidden out of sight in case a parent popped round.

It was worth the hangover that never came. The Biccicleta, the amazing food, the “double the price we would normally spend special” Aldi champagne – the laughter to a Tim Vine show on Dave. All the hallmarks of a night well spent before a morning full of regret.

Your mind then starts to conjure up the worst of the situation when the dodge happens. Don’t talk about it, don’t mention it. Nothing good comes from gloating about a dodged hangover. Like a scene from Final Destination where you go to mock Bacchus, just as your stomach gurgles and the remnants of each glass foams from the mouth – more explosively than the last.

So whisper it quietly. We took on the wine rack and we won. We sunk the ships, necked the good stuff and lived to tell the tale.

Until the next time. Where tears and spumante will leak from our eyes, as our bodies convulse and we remember what it was like to dodge a hangover.

Images: The empties; A biccicleta cocktail from Zucco

Chris Written by:

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