I suppose it worked out in the end...
A night out in London, actually at the open air theatre in Regent's Park. We weren't really in the mood for a night out because we'd just been gazumped on our dream house, but we already had the tickets and our friends were determined to go, so off we went. And we thought we'd have a few drinks to cheer ourselves up in case Pirates of Penzance wasn't up to the job.

As it turned out we needed more drinks to cheer ourselves up. After the play was finished our friends set off home, but we'd just opened another bottle and thought we'd stay to finish it. This was our second mistake.

Inevitably it got to closing time at the bar, and we tottered off to the railway station. Now, those of you who know Regent's Park will know that there is a road encircling it called "The Outer Circle", which is about a couple of miles long.

So we hit the Outer Circle and started looking for the sign pointing to the railway station. I'm sure that there is one of those, but we were either too busy talking or too sloshed to spot it, but after tottering round for a considerable time it suddenly occurred to me to ask "How many zoos are there in Regent's Park?", because I'd seen at least three of them.

Apparently there is only one, so it seemed that we had a problem. As we considered our options, a band were leaving their gig in a white van, and I flagged them down and asked for directions. And a lift, which was politely turned down - I say "politely", he looked quite worried actually. But he gave us directions to the station, at least.

So we followed the directions and eventually came to a zoo, by which time it was about 1.30 am and we had definitely missed the last train. But we really had no idea where we were. Luckily, there was a sort of police bunker nearby with a yellow phone, so I picked that up and asked for help.

The nice man on the other end of the phone told me that if I turned around and faced up the road (I did so, falling backwards against the wall of the bunker, no doubt causing much shaking-of-heads by the cops watching the cctv), then turned left, then went along a bit, then turned left into somesuch street I'd find a hotel.

"Thank you Officer" I said, and we set off as directed.

When we got to the zoo we turned randomly down a street out of sheer desperation, and as luck would have it we found a hotel. Which was full, but nil desperandum because the receptionist called another hotel for us, who quoted a rather eye-watering £380 for the night. Ok. Desperandum, then.

At this point we decided that we'd be better off hiring a taxi to take us home, so we called one of those. He elucidated that we were going to Chesham, and said this would be £30, which sounded a lot better than £380.

So off we went, giving directions to Chesham - it was before the days when Sat-Navs were everywhere - and that seemed to surprise the driver.

"Where did you say you were going?" he asked.
"Chesham" we said.
"Oh. I thought you said 'Cheshunt'"
"Oh." we said.
"I'm going to have to charge you £60 then" he said.

We didn't care, but I didn't have enough on me, so when we got to Chesham I asked him to stop at a cashpoint. Which was shut down for maintenance. There was another one around the corner though, so I made a gesture indicting that I was going there but which apparently looked like "Run!" since he locked the doors on the car with my girlfriend inside.

3:30 am is apparently maintenance time for cashpoints, because the other cashpoint was shut down too, and so was the next one I tried.

"The cashpoints aren't working, but I'll write you a cheque" I said to the driver. He didn't look enormously happy about that, but took us home and I got out a chequebook, and - with enormous concentration and one eye shut - wrote out a cheque for £60.

And off he went. We collapsed onto the sofa.

Two minutes later there was a knock on the door.

I'd written him a cheque using my girlfriend's chequebook. Oops.

And that is how I learned not to drink too much in unfamiliar parts of cities.

No, wait. That is how I learned not to let the sober people leave me alone in unfamiliar parts of cities, and to carry an A-Z. Yes. That sounds like a better moral.
(richardm, Fri 25 Mar 2011, 10:13, 3 replies)

Like it.
esp the moral and the bit with the zoos
( 4Q just lurking, Sat 26 Mar 2011, 2:54, closed)

Your story is, in a word....
SHIT!
(mparryuk52, Wed 30 Mar 2011, 15:21, closed)

Well it made giggle
so a click is in order.
( His Popiness the Hole Invaded Poland on, Wed 30 Mar 2011, 21:11, closed)