Whilst it was good to see everyone for the final time, I didn’t really have much of a memorable night on my final works do. We were out in Ashford, got lashed, went to club – pretty simple. I went to Inferno’s in Clapham the other week and thought it was utter shit, and Liquid nightclub in Ashford rings a similar vibe. I can no longer stand places that play r n b music and are filled with men wearing shoes and shirt – it’s bog standard same old bollocks, and I can’t vouch for it any longer. I pretty much walked around the club looking for people because it was pretty big, and not very much happened.
What happened afterwards, however, is probably up there with the funniest things I have ever witnessed or been a part of. Ollie, JT, and I left the club about 2, pretty well smashed up, so we went to the kebab shop. Afterwards I sat on a bench near to Ashford high street chowing down, when JT appeared to be in some kind of argument with a group of about four girls. It later transpired that it had all stemmed from Ollie throwing a chip at them, then JT throwing a bit of doner meat at them; after that things got a little ugly. JT hadn’t had much of his kebab but he just decided to throw all of it into one of the girl’s faces. Understandably, they weren’t best pleased. I sat there wetting myself laughing as he got chased up and down the street.
Then the most hideous of the four (who I think was the victim of the kebab throwing) approached Ollie and I with tears pouring down her face; judging from the size of her I don’t think she could put up with running after JT for too long. I couldn’t stop laughing, and she noticed. She came up real close and just started screaming hysterically, in a reasonably chav-esque accent, ‘Your mate’s a fucking twat!”
I just took a look at her and replied, ‘Nah – you’re a fucking twat. Just get lost.’ She went absolutely mental, and just started repeatedly clobbering me around the face. I was surprised that it didn’t really hurt, and I just told her to fuck off. Just behind her, one of her mates was laughing her head off. For some reason this girl stopped hitting me after a while and let me get on with eating my kebab, and for another reason that I can’t remember Ollie and I chose to walk back down the high street. Down at the bottom JT was sidestepping two girls who were still pursuing him in front of a group of lads who were all laughing. They just couldn’t catch him – he’d run about two metres, do a duck and dive, then side step then again – it looked completely ridiculous, like a playground game. At one point, however, he did get caught and held, but I can’t remember how he got away.
Ollie and I laughed, chose not to help him out, and carried on walking down the street to the bottom. Here the fat bird who’d punched me in the face came down to the bottom with another girl. We were just talking to them trying to reason with them, saying that it was not our fault that JT had thrown a kebab at them, but it was to no avail – they were just too dense. Then the fat bird knocked Ollie’s chips out of his hand. He looked pretty pissed off with this but I hatched a little plan. I said, ‘Come on, we’re going, just leave it,’ and began walking down the road. After about five metres I got what was left of my kebab (which was still quite a lot) and hurled it at the fat bird. Despite my utter intoxication the throw was excellent. The kebab perfectly arched in the air and first showered the fat girl with onions and chicken meat, before the greasy pitta hit her smack on the face.
It was possibly the most satisfying thing I’ve ever done – I just couldn’t stop laughing at the look on her face as she wiped away the garlic sauce, but I knew I was now deep in the shit, so I started legging it. The fat girl was in not so hot pursuit, chasing after me shouting, ‘I’ll get you you cunt!’ completely hysterically. I jogged on thinking she would never catch me, and just said, ‘You won’t you fat bitch,’ and, ‘I’m too fast for you fatty.’ I must have run about two hundred metres before she gave up – she had absolutely no chance because she was physically a mess (as well as being repulsive to look at). Then she screamed, ‘You won’t be able to come out in Ashford again – my family are well big round here and they’ll knock you out!’ Big deal, I thought, I’m moving to London – plus this was the first time I’d been out in Ashford anyway. Then she started running again, I walked across the road and she chased me, and a car nearly hit her. I told her to fuck off again and just walked off, and she gave up. I met back up with Ollie on the other side of the road and we concluded that we needed to find JT, so we went back up towards the high street. He was just walking down the road with a cheesy grin on his face, completely unscathed. His hot stepping dodge moves had paid off. I noticed my pitta was on the floor, and I was so drunk that I didn’t think it would be unreasonable to eat it, so I did.
I suppose my behaviour was rather ridiculous, but it makes me laugh how stupid the situations can get on a night on the lash. Imagine doing that on a Sunday! That aside, I can’t vouch for repulsive women hitting me for laughing at something. She did pretty well though – two kebabs in the face in ten minutes.
If you want to check out some more lash stories, then take a look at my drinking holiday on Kavos on the Lash.
