Pissing The Night Away

I’d been looking forward the whole of last week to my firm’s Pupils Bash on Friday, because lawyers are such great party people!


The real reason was that free flow of drinks at Cocco Latte = FREE FLOW OF HOEGAARDEN ON TAP, YAAAAAAAY! to me. Sadly, upon arriving and bounding merrily to the bar, I was informed that the club’s arrangement with my firm didn’t include Hoegaarden as part of the free flow. Crushed, I therefore drowned my sorrows with 10 assorted shots of tequila and vodka, 2 beers, 1 vodka and lemonade, 1 JD & Coke, and finally a session in the obligatory firm Dentist’s Chair during which tequila was poured down my gullet. By the way, the only other two pupils I saw who weren’t afraid to drink and weren’t embarrassingly drunk by the end of the night were both guys, and all three of us studied in England. Go figure.

By the time Alec joined me at 11.30, many people had left, been brought home, or were stumbling around drunkenly outside, and no one seemed interested in staying to dance. Since I wasn’t in my comfy dancing shoes and was feeling a bit peckish, we left too and went to Newton for a sotong, stingray and Tsingtao supper with Jacob, Ian and Chiho.

A random mention of pool during supper got our hearts set on a pool game at 4 AM, and an Indian stall uncle (or it might have been the bengs at the next table, I forget) said to try Selegie Road, so off we went, to a roadside bar which looked as if it had been expecting 100 rally-car enthusiasts to show up but which was starkly empty. “In the absence of booze, I’ve ordered us 3 cheesecakes,” Jacob said, and they were good. I think we played 3 games, during which Alec beat Jacob, Jacob beat Alec, and I fell asleep halfway during my game so I don’t know who won but I certainly lost.


It is not a good idea to find yourself crying with laughter at work as your pupil-master (for non-lawyers, that’s basically your Big Boss Man) walks towards you.

It is even less of a good idea, when you see your pupil-master walking towards you, to switch hurriedly in panic from the cause of your tears to the Merchant Shipping Act, the end result being that you have to think of some way of explaining to your bewildered pupil-master why you are crying with laughter at the Merchant Shipping Act.