I thought i might kick it off with a story that happened quite recently actually. A mate and I went out to see a band play at the Birmingham in Fitzroy. One of our friends is the lead guitarist and he and the lead singer, who's an awesome guy, were celebrating their 21st. After plenty of beer, 4 shots of bacardi 151, and two hours standing right in front of the speakers, we took a typical drunken taxi ride over to Burnley to go to another 21st at a mate's house. She lived on top of a shop and seeing as there really wasn't anything expensive in the house that could get wrecked, it was an awesome venue for a house party.
When we arrived we got the best reception anyone can hope for; a full esky of beer, a bottle of vodka, and some awesome music. The night kicked on in predictable fashion and at about 3 am, craving a smoke, the mate I'd gone to the concert with hopped out the front window, on to the roof of the shop to have a ciggie. Don't ask me why he decided to go out there to have a smoke. We'd been smoking inside all night, but i guess it seemed like a good idea at the time. At this point in time I'd gone through the two open bottles of red wine I'd found on the verandah, which the birthday girl said had been there for two weeks exposed to sun and rain, and was slowly making my way through the esky. 30 seconds after stepping out on to the roof, there was a yell from down below and a guy dressed in normal clothes flashed his badge and demanded my mate went downstairs.
He went down and the guy explained he was a cop and he and his wife lived next door. Things did not go well from there. The cop believed that my mate was trying to rob his house. Despite the birthday girl going downstairs to prove that she lived in the property next door, the cop decided to call a divvy van. The two female cops in the divvy van took approximately one minute to work out that my mate had just been an idiot by going out on the roof and they just wanted to leave.
Then things got worse. The cop from next door just wouldn't calm down and was going nuts. Meanwhile I was going back inside for beer every 5 minutes and so had failed to sober up at all, which meant that the whole thing was just hilarious. But when the birthday girl's boyfriend came outside, accused the cop of being corrupt and then threatened to sue him.... there was only one way for the cop to react.... ARMED POLICE VEHICLE! Good fun then ensued as the armed policed van rocked up and 8 or so cops hopped out all dressed in black, they had a word to the two female cops and the male cop who was causing all the problems. They were smart enough to tell the male cop, who was off duty, to let us go and to stop fucking around.
He took our details and finally let us go. We hit the beers hard again and finished off that bottle of vodka!
There was only one true way to top off a night like that: I caught the train home in the morning. It's only two stops from Burnley to Flinder's street station as they skip East Richmond on sunday mornings, but I only lasted one. At Richmond station my stomach was feeling like it was about to explode and I hopped off just as the doors were closing. I just got to the bin, and seeing as there were no other trains around at the time, everybody on all ten platforms saw me regurgitate everything I'd consumed in the past 48 hours. After a solid 10 minutes of vomiting and dry wretching I opened my eyes to see the damage, and realised I'd missed the bin and made a mess of Platform 2. I travelled the rest of the way home in a disgrace, with a decent helping of spew on myself, and not only did I smell of it as well, my scent also has stale cigarettes and beer mixed in with it.
All in all a good night.
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