Monday, September 25, 2006

Hangovers

I'm now back in deepest, darkest Argyll after a weekend spent in Scotland's fair capital. The wedding turned out to be a good night despite the fact that the only three people I knew beforehand were Mrs Wife, the bride and groom.

Initially, Mrs Wife and I were stuck at the table from hell, where those couples who didn't know anyone else were put. No-one spoke for the first hour, so Mrs Wife and I decamped to the bar, where we met some people who actually had tongues in their heads, and all was well again.

The band was great, and it is definitely the only wedding I've been to where one of the tracks played has been Johnny Cash's Folsom Prison Blues. An odd choice to play at the start of someone's marriage....

Anyway, I awoke on Sunday morning after Saturday's heavy session on the ale with no hangover. And this started me thinking - I haven't had a hangover in almost 18 months.

Don't get me wrong, I've awoken after nights out feeling tired and thirsty. But in more than a year, I've never had a PROPER hangover, one where you could almost hear your internal organs shrivelling if you listened carefully, and if your brain wasn't hosting its own private Slipknot concert. One where you can easily drink six litres of Coke and still not need to pee, and where the comfiest resting place you can think of is a cool, steel mortuary table.

I don't know why I haven't had a real hangover in so long. The year that has passed has included two stag weekends, one of them my own, several birthday parties, Christmas nights out and a scattering of weddings, again including my own.

On my own stag weekend, I started drinking at noon on the Friday and barely stopped for the next 48 hours, yet never once did I have a genuine hangover.

Maybe alcohol has suddenly gotten more pure, and there are less toxins floating round my body waiting to be transformed into projectile vomit.

Maybe every drink I have had I the past 18 months has been watered down.

Or maybe, after more than a decade of drinking (we start young in Angus) I have developed a higher resistance to the demon drink.

Whatever the reason, I'm not complaining. Too many days have been spent shivering in bed through self-inflicted poisoning, and if I've seen the back of them, I'll happily celebrate - with a double vodka if anyone's buying?

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

the city is a top place for a stag party. And nothing better than a good old Scottish greasy spoon for breakfast to fix a hangover!

Anonymous said...

Edinburgh Stag Weekend the city is a top place for a stag party. And nothing better than a good old Scottish greasy spoon for breakfast to fix a hangover!