"We must buy a shirt"
October 13th 2011, 3.45am.

I'd been drinking with some friends in halls when it two things suddenly occurred to me. The first was that it was the morning of international suit up day, and the second was that while I owned a jacket and trousers, I didn't have a suitable shirt. With three quarters of a bottle of whisky swooshing around my system, I decided that I had to get one. Right that very second.

Being in Edinburgh and only a few miles away from a 24 hour Asda (complete with clothing department), this would not present a problem. If I could get to Asda. I was obviously far too far gone to drive, and the night buses would have stopped running by the time I wanted to come back. I was not in any state to walk a long distance.

That left the bikes. I say bikes, because my friend W also thought this was a great idea. We set off down Calder road, weaving our way around non-existent obstacles and giggling like the drunken fools we were. Somehow we managed to get to Asda without falling off or cycling into anything. My memory then goes blank until we've left again, and I decide that we should cycle back along the union canal towpath. Less traffic, but a much thinner path. By a canal. Safer? Maybe. I forgot, however, about the bridge supports and how they (in some places) stick out slightly into the path. I was reminded of this fact when I rode smack bang into one, taking almost all the force through my right hand and landing heavily on my left hand. After lying there for a few moments, W helped me up and we continued home. I don't remember getting home.

I woke up the next day at 2pm, unable to move either of my thumbs. Where does being arrested come into this? I was informed later by W that we had not, in fact, left Asda voluntarily* and had got out just as a couple of policemen strolled in. I also remembered that in order to get to Asda the way we did, we would have had to cycle right past Dumbryden police station - a large and active institution, staffed by people with a distinct sense-of-humour deficiency. Then we would have cycled right past it again on the way back, obviously barely capable of walking, let alone cycling. I still don't know how we didn't get pinched at some point.

Opening the bag I took with me, I found a bottle of coke, a (now very flat) box of muffins and a can of energy drink, but no shirt. Arse.



*W tells me this was because we a) had a fifteen minute, shouted argument over what sort of biscuits he should buy and b) because when we had settled that question, we spent a further ten minutes running up and down the toy isle, setting off every single noisy item we could.
( MatJ LOOK, Sat 28 Jan 2012, 0:30, 1 reply)

"My thumbs have gone weird"

( Infidel , shit and wrong, Sat 28 Jan 2012, 0:40, closed)