» Guilty Laughs

Stag night basement diving
Out in Brighton for a mate's stag do back in the early 90's. Spent the afternoon watching Liverpool beat Sunderland in the FA Cup Final, and collecting the sweepstake on both scorers! After consuming more beer than my frail-for-a-big-man constitution could handle, the inevitable hurl, re-fill on double pie and chips and an impromptu dip in the briney courtesy of my brother (the crude runt!) we decided to head back to our hotel room.

A dry off and a few jazz woodbines later and the mood was suitably mellow. I happened to glance out of the hotel window to see the groom being virtually dragged along the street by the best man and another mate. With much amusement I hailed my brother with "Come and have a look at this mate - Rick's fucked, he can hardly stand up!" And much amusement did ensue. They brought him into the closest room to the lobby - ours - and I must admit he didn't look in a good way, clearly upset and with a proper good graze down his chin weeping blood. Also shaking quite visibly.

Turns out he was pretty pissed, as one would hope of a man on his own stag. In a haze of beery good cheer, he'd turned to wave at my two oldest brother's when they shouted some suitable banter at him from the pub as he was staggering his way back to our hotel. In his drunken state poor Rick thought that the wall behind him had a fence, but instead terminated sans woodwork at about knee height. He leant back for support and went arse over tit into the basement beyond, proper summersault, narrowly missing the basement flat's window sill with his jaw - hence the graze. Doesn't bear thinking about the resulting comedy Viz-like dental carnage that would have resulted in his jaw connecting just an inch futher in to the windowsill.

Luckily his extremely relaxed drink-fuelled posture allowed him to fall into the pavement in rubbery enough fashion to avoid major injury. Although he did lose his lot later that night after an ill-advised kebab with garlic sauce, but that was almost inevitable I guess.

I still have a guilty chuckle at his mewling, shaking form slumped on the spare bed in our room as me and my brother tried not to blatantly piss ourselves at the state of him and his misfortune. We were quite stoned, to be fair.

Length? About 8 feet down to the basement floor, and not that impressive for me after that dip in the English Channel.

*pop* long time lurker first post cherry popped
*Edit* As Rick fell over the wall my oldest brother Gary shouted the immortal line "He's gone down!"
(Fri 23rd Jul 2010, 13:29, More)