Hangover

Never let it be said that Taps Richard is not a man of his word.

As promised I took last Friday off as leave so that I could enjoy Thursday to the full and not have to go home all sad and depressed when everyone was able to stay out.

I’ve said this before but I can’t really fully enjoy a drink unless I’ve got the next day off/free. Obviously if I have to go to work the next day I can’t stay out too long, but equally, if I need to be up and about the next day (even if up and about only entails going to the pub) because my hangovers are just so epically hideous, it means that I have to stop just as I’m really getting up a good head of drinking steam.

I’m absolutely convinced that I suffer the worst hangovers in the entire world. These are things which would kill normal men. Crush them. Chew them up and spit them out. They’re titanic and relentless and only a hero, a warrior, a Knight without fear or blemish can endure them without being moved to bitter shameful tears of pain and despair. No other mortal man can possible suffer that which I mustI. Of that I'm completely convinced. I’m like Atlas eternally bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders in punishment for an ancient crime. Or Prometheus, who gave the gift of fire to man, chained to a rock and condemned to have my liver eaten every night by Kronenbourg (or something like that). All I can do is suffer silently. Endure heroically and grit my teeth and wrestle, white knuckled, with the twisted son of a bitch, from daybreak to dusk.

[I don’t tell you this to seek your sympathy - only your understanding]

So anyway, I took Friday off (something which I intend to do again this Friday as well) and therefore Thursday was an appropriately good night, with most of the usual suspects out for it.

Naturally on Friday I woke up with a monstrous ball of a hangover and so dragged myself to Taps for a bit to talk to Irena and then went round to Buffalos with Casey for lunch – which, to be honest did help. Got back to Taps and chatted and did the crossword for a few hours over a few ice cold Coronas with Irena and Casey and then headed off home much recovered and slightly restored.

Taps cures all.

[Needless to say, the Taps does not cure all and this is not meant as literal medical advice. Anyone relying on the curative and palliative capabilities of Taps does so at their own risk and of their own volition and is a complete idiot. Is that understood?

Good.

Now get out of here]

(oh, and see you in the Kings Head tonight)