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So I recently found myself in the disastrous situation with
a group of friends where we all seemed to be at a different level of drunkenness.
Although this provided me with lots of amusement, because I didn’t appear to be
the worst, it led me to thinking about all the various stages of inebriation
and when we’ve gone that little bit too far…
The Tiny Bit Tipsy.
We all know this delightful stage, you’ve had a couple of glasses of wine and
can feel it but you’re fairly confident you will still be able to get out of
bed in the morning. It’s just enough to persuade you to add a winky face to the
end of that text, but not cruel enough to force you into telling your ex that
you’re over them.
The Moreishly Merry.
So now you’ve reached the 4 drink mark, the texts become more cheeky and the
drinks seem to go down faster. This is where you have to make the all-important
decision, go all out or go home. Obviously the former is much more exciting and since you’ve had four drinks, one more can’t make a difference…
The Haphazardly Happy.
You need to dance. Too much alcohol and adrenaline to sit still. Flirting with
the bar tender is a necessity at this stage, and don’t forget confidently
chatting to the fit guy/girl at the next-door table. This is it, the perfect
drunk paradise, definitely the right decision to wear that top, you look
fabulous. Then you decide to have one more…
The Shamefully
Sloshed. The words are starting to slur, your foot gets stood on by some
idiot’s high heel and you don’t really notice, you’re wondering if you can get
away with a cheeky tactical chunder in the toilets…someone buys you another
drink.
The Painfully Paralytic.
Woops. Time to start saving for that sorry/thank you meal you will have to
buy for your flatmate who left the fit bird he was snogging to carry you home.
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