Please Forgive Me Robbie

I may actually be the worst friend to ever have been befriended by anyone anywhere. I realised today in horror that I had missed not one but two days of perfectly good weekend party days not so that I could get some much needed work done, or pretend to study for a genetics test that I write on Wednesday evening nor did I miss out so that I could spend time with the family. So why did I miss out? Well I missed out because I was hopelessly and inexplicably hung-over. 

I awoke at four o’clock on Saturday morning, a mere two hours after having collapsed into bed, make up still on and barely pausing long enough to remove my shoes, to find myself dying of a thirst so severe I thought I had surely made out with a desert the night before. I stumbled out of bed to find that my darling sister had left a bottle of water on my desk, whether on purpose or by mistake was not important at the time. I grabbed the bottle and was soon sitting on the side of my bed, shivering from the cold and seriously regretting the fact that I had stopped drinking the night before.

After drinking about half a litre of water my thirst was finally subsiding to the levels of a normal hangover and my pure exhaustion became a more pressing matter. I slide back into bed and was instantly asleep. It couldn’t have been five minutes later when I woke with a start to that horrible sickly sweet taste of my own saliva that pre-empts and inevitable vomit. 

After rushing to the bathroom and throwing up most of my stomach contents into the toilet bowl in a not-so-ladylike manner, I slowly rose to my feet. What awaited me in the mirror was something out of a horror movie. I looked absolutely terrible. The rest of the morning continued in much the same fashion and when my sister came in at lunch time to check on me my situation hadn’t much improved.

It was then; with much self-loathing that I cancelled my Saturday night plans much to my best mate’s disappointment. Two hours later my sister virtually dragged me out of bed and marched me off to the Pulp Cinema to watch a movie. By the time we reached the opening credits I had already thrown up twice and things were not looking up for me at all but after taking a friend’s advice I managed to hold down a coke (or most of it anyways). 

But I still didn’t feel much better and Sunday proved to be not much better until I got to the Eastern Food Bizarre. For those of you who have never been lucky enough to stumble into this hole in the wall on Longmarket Street that happens to be one of Cape Town’s greatest features, I highly suggest that you get on it, SOON. I instantly felt better and my appetite returned to me tenfold. My sister and I had driven all the way to Cape Town to get Asian take outs and it was worth every cent and every litre of petrol.

Finally I was starting to feel like a fully functional human being and damn, it felt good. 

So to those friends who helped me get horribly wasted on Friday evening and to those of you who I ditched on either Saturday or Sunday, I humbly apologise for being such a lightweight and a completely useless friend. I promise to start training to improve my alcohol consumption immediately. Anyone want to help?