I know for a fact that I'm probably the world's worst 18 year old. Give me a night in front of the telly with chocolate over a night out with cheap shots and loud music any day.
Don't get me wrong, I love getting dressed up (or dressed down, considering the dress code in my town seems to be "anything that shows your ovaries") and dancing to sleazy R&B songs with my best friends in a grimy nightclub. I also love that I tend to lose every single social boundary after a drink (or two) and think it's totally acceptable to talk to the man dressed up as Rolf Harris, stood alone in the middle of the town centre. Some of my best memories, although a bit blurred, are from nights out and as much as I protest that I really would rather just have a cup of tea, I love the thrill of a proper night out.
As you may have noticed from previous blogs, I consider alcohol to be one of my close friends. I know that's sad, but I really do like the taste of the stuff and therefore, it'll always have a place in my heart. I know my limit when it comes to a cheeky tipple and I know what I should and shouldn't drink. I'm quite lucky in that respect, because as I found out last night, some people just don't understand that there's a line you shouldn't cross when you're drinking. The line I'm talking about is something I disagree with massively when I'm sober and even more so when alcohol is involved: violence.
In fear of sounding like I'm auditioning for Miss Congeniality, I'm a massive believer of banning the bomb, making love not war and doing everything we possibly can to restore a little bit of peace in this crazy world. What can I say, I'm a John Lennon fan...
The point I'm trying to make is that alcohol doesn't always have a good effect on everybody. Sure, it helps loosen people up, making certain situations slightly less awkward and allowing people to shake of some of that stress as they break it down into a Chandler-inspired dance routine, but it also has the opposite effect on others. I've seen the negative effects of alcohol turn the loveliest person into something that us Muggles would refer to as "You-Know-Who". Well, they certainly didn't do a Voldemort and kill hundreds of innocent people, but they certainly thought violence was the answer that night.
Last Saturday night, I was sat in McDonald's with a group of friends, minding my own business and getting down and dirty with a tub of BBQ sauce. It's a necessity to have dirty food at the end of a night out and it's the only time I'll let myself slip & eat that kind of food, so I think my drunken self deserves it. More focused on the food than anything else around me, I didn't notice one of my friend's talking to his ex girlfriend. Never a good thing to happen when alcohol is put into the mix, but I didn't take much notice of it. My double cheeseburger needed my attention and who was I to neglect it?
2 minutes later, out of nowhere comes a chicken nugget box. I think you honestly needed to have been there to appreciate the sheer hilarity of it all, but it was like something from a film. As the box was in mid flight, a chicken nugget escaped and hurtled towards my head. Before my reflexes even had time to address the situation, the chicken nugget had hit me and was now lying by it's box, helpless, on the sticky floor. Soon after I had been hit, the door had slammed and out stormed the ex girlfriend. She had obviously aimed for my friend and hit me instead. Not intentional, but I had still just been abused by a chicken nugget and I wasn't about to let anyone around me forget it. A 10 minute taxi ride and a 20 minute walk later, my friend's had got fed up of me ranting on about the lone McNugget and had left me. I walked home, bitterness taking over my bloodstream and rushing through my body, preventing me from thinking about anything else.
Of course I was never actually that angry about the incident (who am I kidding?), I was just confused. I understand that one chicken nugget is hardly a glass bottle in my neck or a brick in my face, in fact it's absolutely nothing in comparison to some drunken acts of violence, but it's just opened my eyes to the effects alcohol can have on people.
I'm almost certain that if this girl hadn't have been a bit drunk, she wouldn't have thrown a McDonald's box at an innocent party. The same can be said for the guys who get a bit lairy after a few too many shots of sambuca and think it's clever to square up to other guys for no other reason than to show off that they're a man. However, regardless of the situation, alcohol should never be used as an excuse for this kind of behaviour. It can ruin a brilliant night out in a split second and can demolish friendships/relationships/pride and dignity in the same amount of time.
Now, I don't think this girl feels guilty about hitting me because as I said before a chicken nugget is nothing in terms of it being used a weapon. But I'd like to think that a little part of her realises it wasn't cool to lash out like she did. Fair enough, she lashed out with a cardboard box but what if that cardboard box was in fact a brick? Same situation, stronger weapon. I'd probably be sat here with a broken nose.
So the moral of my story is basically that no matter how many 'Blowjob' shots you demolish on a night out, violence is never the answer. Whether your weapon of choice is a dirty processed chicken nugget or a brick, you should never resort to violence to prove your point. Check yourself before you pick up that weapon and remember, it's a lot easier to slur your sorries and walk away than it is to deal with a criminal record, or in the case of what I now call ChickenNugget-Gate, a wasted piece of food. Dipped in BBQ sauce, that chicken nugget is pretty much perfection after a few Jagerbombs, so to the girl who threw her's at me - you're a fool.
Next time a situation comes up where violence could be an option, I suggest we all put down our drinks and our processed foods and let's forget our 'male pride'. 'Cause it's always more fun to let our inner Chandler Bing rock out than it is to lose a chicken nugget: