Too drunk to pluck

Last night (and much of this morning’s early bits) was spent at j4 and addedentry‘s housewarming. Despite their rashness in implicitly inviting all two million or so LiveJournal users, the house was merely comfortably crowded and, eventually, warmed.

By 3am I’d started on the guitar, and was in some laughable equivalent of Duelling Banjoes with the chap behind Covert Music: laughable, I hasten to add, on my part alone. Last time we met, come to think of it, he didn’t drink all night, and I don’t think he’d touched much if any yesterday. I, on the other hand, had had a skinful, and leapt to every new challenge with a drunken man’s brio. Like an enthusiastic if hapless arctic scuba-diver, I hammered my way into each new song cheerily and optimistically, only to find myself struggling to get all the way to the exit and extract myself and my pride intact.

This was one of the reasons why K. and I decided on a dry January (well, we managed three weeks and six days). If we make it to the fondue in four weeks’ time without another drink then I suppose we’d try to claim it as a triumph for temperance.

There was also someone behind me on the bus home that kept threatening to be sick down my back, which led to an argument with a selfish chav dressed like it was the height of summer, but I don’t hold either j4, addedentry or those two bottles of red wine particularly responsible for that.

This entry was posted in diary, experience, instruments, intoxication, music, parties, person. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Too drunk to pluck

  1. Andrew says:

    You’re right there; I don’t drink. (Looong story.)

    For what it’s worth, I thought you were much better than I was. All the songs I know are maudlin, depressing affairs about death and how indie boys never get a date.

  2. sbalb says:

    You mean… there’s other types of musics?

  3. K says:

    It’s a shame you guys aren’t perfect guitar players. That’s probably why your playing wasn’t in the same key as my perfect singing.

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