I've woken up plenty of times in my life and thought, 'did that really happen last night?' I did this morning.
In the old days when blackouts were a regular occurrence, i would wake up with that awful dread and feeling of 'what did i do last night?' You couldn't remember but you knew it was something deeply shameful or embarrassing. It was a stain on your brain.
Whether I was arrested, verbally abused my girlfriend, started arguing with people, or humiliated myself there was that growing feeling of 'did that really happen last night?' The answer was always 'yes', but fucked if i could remember how.
Then you had to go through the process of piecing the blackout together. The girlfriend of course would blank you as you were a real c***t the previous evening. You would have to send pre-emptive 'sorry' texts to friends apologizing for behaviour in case you were out of order, phone calls would have to be worded correctly trying to coax out what you did. You listened intently to tone of voice. If it was off you had done something wrong. If it was normal you were OK. Of course if you woke up in a police cell you knew the blackout was bad, at least the police interview would piece it together for you. It was Exhausting.
I loved drinking and blacking out as i thought it was an exciting adventure. Nothing actually happened in the exciting drunken adventure other than getting pissed & growing my lager man tits but in my head i thought it may end in rock and roll. It never did. The 'did it really happen last night' was usually of the 'me doing something wrong' variety.
When i got sober, at 28, i genuinely thought my life was over. I genuinely thought my life would be glum, boring, dull. That my laughs and drunken adventures were over. Forgetting that my drunken adventures were mostly dull as f**k. It was the worst thing that could happen i thought to myself. It's over. 'Did it really happen last night', would be consigned to the past. How wrong i was.
There have been so many times in the past 11 years I've woken up and thought, 'did that really happen?'. Some of them wonderful and some of them awful. Some of them fantastic and some truly grim. I could no longer blame the alcohol or blackout. It was all me and my superb little alcoholic twisted brain sometimes.
Point is the ratio has changed enormously over 11 years. Now the 'did that really happen last night' is usually good. There are far more goods to bads. It doesn't have to be something out of this world. It could be a family gathering, meeting loved ones, a great comedy show, a really fun night, feeling comfortable or amazing sex!
We've all had the 'did that really happen last night' mornings and so was my turn today.
I woke up and thought, 'did Grace Jones really show me her snatch last night?'. The answer was yes. She did. In Putney. In a party, In front of 12 people. In the living room. In Putney. I know I've said it twice, but it was a house party in Putney, I still can't believe it.
That kind of shit never happened when i was drinking. Yes i may have copped a drunken view or feel of a snatch in a pub toilet, but definately not from a Disco diva, world famous musician, bond girl and all round legend. Usually it was someone called 'Debrah', who wore leopard print leggings and ugg boots.
I remember watching Grace Jones on top of the pops, dancing to 'Pull up to your bumper' at the youth club disco, watching in 'A View to Kill', swinging hula hoops in the Jubilee concert. She was the last person i expected to see at a party in Putney. Man i love being sober. It rocks.
I'm pretty sure if i would have been drinking she wouldn't have clawed my chest and called me 'fit boy'. She would have clawed my chest and said, 'they're bigger than mine honey. I wasn't fit when i was drinking.
It did happen last night, i can remember it. It was of course odd, mad, amazing and class. I mean if you're going to throw a party with a classical pianist doing an amazing show at a penthouse overlooking London, you've got to have Grace turn up at the end to play her new album. Just to finish it off.
No, I'm a fan of being sober. Stuff like this always happens. It's why i love living in London. It's why i love being sober. It's why i love the total randomness of life.
Did that really happen last night? You f****g bet it did.
I better watch out though. I'm turning into one of those nauseating celeb stalkers you see, forever having their pics taken with famous people so it makes their life look better than it actually is. Rod Stewart, Clare Balding, Grace Jones. What next? Bryan Ferry in Asda Isleworth?
No the truth is somewhat different. I trained at the gym ,spent the day getting my hairy back waxed (God i hate that how do you girls put up with it?), did a meeting and watched Casino Royal in my pants whilst eating tins of tuna with salad cream. I reckon Grace's evening would have been somewhat different. She would have been eating hula hoops.
xx
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