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The Spontaneous Guys Night Out

So you’ve just got in from a hard day at work, one full of lectures, or a strenuous day with the family where you’re quizzed on everything from ‘how’s work’ to ‘how’s the love life’, and all that you’re looking to do is sit back and relax in your most comfortable sweats (or onesie if that’s your thing) with whatever mindless rubbish is on TV that night. But just as you’re getting settled the phone rings, it’s THAT friend! The crazy one that sees any night that doesn’t involve drinking, dancing and debauchery to be a night wasted, and who couldn’t think of anything worse than sitting in front of the box. You contemplate ignoring the call, but by the 7th ring (and this mate will wait that long) the devil has well and truly beat down the angel on your other shoulder, forcing you to answer the call, though you do in a most disgruntled manner, they will have to work for this night out. That they do, with a tone so full of excitement you’d think you were getting back stage passes to a concert of your favourite band in Vegas! And after five full minutes of negotiation you are finally worn down (but don’t kid yourself, you were going from the moment you picked up the phone), your night in completely ruined.


Now for the tricky part, you are informed that the taxi will be there to pick you up in half ‘n’ hour! You smell yourself, do you really need a shower? Yes you do! You jump in and it’s literally the quickest shower in history, there’s no chance of a full body wash here, only the essential areas are necessary (I won’t go into detail!). Then you jump out, pour yourself a wine, beer, or whatever concoction suits you (pre-drinking is still law right?) and flick through the music channels until you find a half-decent song, after-which you turn the volume up as high as possible to psyche yourself up for the coming festivities before commencing with the critical part of the pre-night ritual, the dolling up, which can involve everything from gelling your hair, to a full-blown shave (remember you only have 15 minutes, try not to cut yourself), not forgetting your aftershave!


The taxi arrives and your adrenaline begins to kick in, you down your drink (well it can’t go to waste) and run to the car, met with a host of jeers and whistles as is only acceptable from your very best mates. The journey begins and the banter begins to flow, even the driver gets involved (presuming you get a good one), and they’re more experienced than the lot of you after years of town trips (So watch what you say!). Suddenly you begin to panic, did you remember your ID in the melee of getting ready? You shift around anxiously trying to get into your pants pocket to check your wallet, if it’s not there you will never hear the end of it (and will more than likely face the punishment of footing the cab bill!), alas, It’s there, thank god! Disaster averted.


You stop at the closest bank to the club as, inevitably, one of you will be without cash (Are you that guy?), where you’ll be met by queues bigger than those required to get into the actual venue (or at least it feels like it!). Then after what seems like hours (though realistically it’s around five minutes), it’s time to head over. Here’s when the anticipation really starts to kick in, which is the beauty of a night out like this, with no time to prepare there is no pre-night anticipation, meaning that there is a much smaller chance of the night being a complete let down. You give the bouncer your ID, pay the guy (or girl) over the counter and you’re in! You head straight to the bar for your first drink and then pick a spot from which to stand (or sit if you’re lucky), looking to ease yourself in. However THAT friend (you know, the guy from before) has other ideas and gets in a round of shots (ok they’ve twisted your arm), you down that and the night begins.