Day six – When I Got Drunk for Free

I woke up on day six and the inevitable happened – I had a huge spot on my face. Not even on my face, right in the middle of my forehead where it could not be hidden by hair or anything else. It looked like some kind of alien communication portal right out of Mork and Mindy. Typical.  

A ton of makeup later and I made it into work (walking again) and had a very good day as I managed to get drunk for free and probably narrowly missed being attacked (maybe God doesn’t hate me after all). Here is how the lovely, lovely people at work managed to get me drunk and I didn’t have to spend a penny.

Being the trusted, hotshot investigative journalist that I am, work sent me on a groundbreaking job at the Royal Horticultural Show. As I strolled past the flowers and plants, trying to find some local gardening “celebrities” to interview, the unmistakable smell of Welsh cakes wafted through the air. And so, because I love to torture myself (is there a word for those sorts of people?), I made my way towards the food tent, knowing I had no money to spend.

Cakes, chocolate, bread, cheese, olives, wine, ale, beer, CHAMPAGNE and all other stalls overflowing with all the food I love were being sold and I really could not believe I couldn’t buy anything. I made do with a few freebie testers and trudged back to the office, hungry and wanting every kind of snack I know is bad for me.

Everyone at the office was going for a drink so I said I’d stop by but wasn’t going to drink. After a long and hard week, the smell of beer wafting through the air (we were at a micro brewery) combined with the tipsey merriment of my colleagues, I once again contemplated giving up as I craved a much-needed, much-deserved end-of-week pint. But, once again a gentleman friend came to the rescue as I got my first drink of the night bought to me. Someone else bought me another, then another and another. 

One pint and three glasses of wine later, I was feeling suitably merry and way too guilty for the fact I wasn’t able to buy anyone a drink back. But with the promise we would all go out again next week (when I will buy the first two rounds for everyone) I made my way home.

I had to walk, it was late, I was tipsey and in heels but didn’t have enough money for a taxi. I realise this is a very dangerous thing to do and I certainly wouldn’t do it any other time. I’m very lucky nothing happened to me and let’s hope my mother never finds out about this or she would disown me. I didn’t realise this task would have risks involved. But I managed to get home safe and sound, although I’m quite sure my colleagues are now going to think I am a complete skin flint, which couldn’t be any further from the truth. Next week is going to be a very expensive week indeed.

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