Sort of related to the question
In that it takes place in various pubs and clubs.

I went out for a drink with a few mates on Saturday in Sunny Swindon. (For the record, I'm beginning to think that Swindon is Hotel California, i.e. you can check out any time you like but you can never leave, but thats not the point of this). For reasons unknown to me, two of them had dressed up in full camo gear. This will become important later on.

I'm a reformed alcoholic, in that I no longer drink. So this makes nights out for me very interesting, and surreal at times, because I'm now sober and actually capable of comprehending whats going on. I may not remember half the night because I have trouble forming new memories, but if something is really memorable, then I have a pretty good chance of remembering it.

So, anyway. I'm out with two mates, and about half an hour in, we meet with an old friend who I haven't seen in three years. Catching up is done, much reminiscing is to be had, and much congratulations on achievements are made (I was recently signed up to a record label, and two of my mates were moving in together, so we had stuff to celebrate), and the drink was flowing for everyone else, with me being on coke or pepsi, depending on the quality of the establishment.

It is at this point that events start to become a little surreal for me. The only other male of the group, we shall call him A, for that is his initial, is starting to get a wee bit drunk. He hadn't had much to eat all day, so he was getting pretty pissed pretty quick. He also starts making train "woo-woo" noises at this point. He disappears off to the bar, and returns about five minutes later looking ashen-faced and clutching a pitcher of WooWoo.

Turns out the reason he was ashen-faced was because he'd just been chatted up at the bar. By another man. A is very, very straight, and didn't quite know how to react to an indecent proposal, especially after ordering WooWoo and coming off camper than he intended. So he did what any man would do, and fled the scene.

After a while, we leave the pub and head over to another pub. The only note-worthy event was the fact that I thrashed the two girls, N and J, at pool, with A on my team. Despite the fact that A was having to hang on to the table to remain upright. This made me happy as I'm a really crap pool player usually.

We get bored. We move onto a club. Here's where stuff gets really, really surreal and for the benefit of anyone still reading, I'm just going to list the events in vaguely chronological order.

- A is chatted up again. This time by a woman. But said woman is a squaddie, so she's asking what regiment, etc, A is in, and then starts adjusting his clothing. A tries to fob her off onto J, but fails. Me, N and J are stood at the bar openly laughing at A's horrified expression as his new-found squaddie starts scaring him.

- A tries chatting up a nun (someone in fancy dress, not a real nun). Or at least what he can see of a nun. Said nun turns around, looking really confused at being chatted up by a man in full camo gear. A is also really confused, as said nun is a man in drag, and dressed up as a nun.

- I get accosted by a man dressed up as Superman, who alternately shouts and slurs at everyone near him. Superman shouts at me to leave his cereal alone. There is no cereal in sight.

- A attempts to dance. Did I mention that A is an ex-wrestler? In his very lubricated state now, he starts using wrestling moves on the dance floor, i.e. suplexing invisible people and such like.

- Two smurfs start slow-dancing, during Living On A Prayer. Both are male. Then one starts pole-dancing, using the other as a pole. The sight of this will never leave me.

- Going to a supposed metal club (The Furnace, if anyone knows/cares), having an alright start (Chop Suey! by System of a Down and The Perfect Drug by NIN being the hardest songs there.), which turns into a mix of those well-known metal tracks, Johnny B Goode, Rock Around The Clock, and other such classic metal tracks. I shit you not.

Those are the memorable moments of the night. Pubbing and clubbing whilst sober is fun, albeit surreal.
(Ghost Atreides enjoying incontestable health benefits on, Tue 10 Feb 2009, 0:04, Reply)