No night out ever starts with shots. Especially tequila. Tequila is a choice people only make as part of a chain of bad ones. I’ve never drunk tequila before midnight.

I should have said no. I should have said no to the rum before it. I should have said no to the whisky before that, and probably at least two of the beers before the whisky.

I definitely should have said no to the yellow stuff that tasted like aniseed that came after the tequila. But to be honest by that point I’m not sure I was capable of saying much.

It was supposed to be a celebration. No, wait that came later; it was supposed to be a quiet drink after work. Just three of us having a quick catch up. But then three became five, and announcements were made, and suddenly it was a party. By then I was already half cut. I should have stayed for the toast, made my apologies and headed home. Left the rest of them to it. That would have been nice. A lovely evening, a nice capper to the week.

But I didn’t, and now here I am.

I just wish I knew where here is. That sign, is that in Welsh? Am I in Wales? Or is it Gaelic? Is it possible that I managed to get to Scotland?

I remember being at St Pancras. Why was I at St Pancras?

Where am I? How do I get home? Where’s my wallet?

And where the hell are my shoes?

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David Wynne

David Wynne is a cartoonist from south east London now living in Hove. He likes loud music and probably drinks more than he should. He tries to be nice. He really does try.

Latest posts by David Wynne (see all)

• Thank You and Goodbye - 30/07/16
• A Walk In The Park - 28/01/16
• 06/12/2015 Image – “Quiet Neighbours” by David Wynne - 06/12/15
• SMILE - 21/11/15
• In the Forest of the High Stones - 31/10/15