I'm dancing with the man in the mirror.
It was a dreadful meat market in London somewhere and I drunkenly waded through the packed dance floor in search of the toilet, scuffing shoes and fraying tempers as I stepped all over the cattle that grazed greedily on one another.

I'd received a few cuffs about the head as wayward arms were slung wildly around roughly in time to whatever gibberish was being forced through the too loud speakers. This, in combination with the copious alcohol coursing through my tiny frame conspired to push dizziness into my brain and sickness into my gut.

The dance floor looked to go on for miles and I ventured to what I believed to be the middle when some bald joker stood square in my way. Being kind as I am I moved aside and gestured him to pass, but the drunken fuckwit copied me exactly. "Fine" I thought and attempted to manoeuvre around him the other way, only for the grinning simpleton to lurch stupidly into my path yet again.

Growing quickly tired of this idiocy I looked into his half closed, bloodshot eyes and leaned in to ask politely if he'd allow me to pass and continue my quest to find the toilets. It was at this point that I head butted the mirror I'd seemingly been dancing about in front of for the past few minutes and clumsily stumbled back into the crowd of wobbly revellers behind me.

I'm such a dopey cock sometimes.
( Moey, Wed 8 Apr 2009, 14:01, 1 reply)

Yes!!
FTW.
I have done this too. In SNOBS in Birmingham.
(never-right -getting it wrong since '78, Wed 8 Apr 2009, 14:39, closed)