Mini Christmas Party! (Blog 346)

Yesterday, I planned on going to a Christmas party, to a place I’ve never been before. You probably know what that means - an extreme risk of getting lost. Almost inevitable. I had two options: Take a train route I was familiar with (the final stop being London Bridge) and do a long and next level walk from there, OR go a different train route and take an apparently short walk. You know what? I think I could handle an alternative train journey. Sure I’d have to do a mixture of regular trains and underground trains, but I was used to that stuff when going to the first station mentioned! If anything, I’m a train expert. A bit unsure at times, but it’s a cautious anxiety. I’m not one of those people who are confident about travelling to London, but end up in Scotland or whatever. That would be TOO relaxed. Stupid, too. My cautiousness was also proven to be very useful when I checked online to see when the last train home would be. You’d think it would be a normal time as Google said there were no train strikes on the day, but nope, the transport finished early. If I didn’t check that? Well, I would be stuck and have to tramp it out of the night. I’d earn some change, sure, but I would be without my meds and, yeah… not good. I’d actually turn into one of those mad rambling tramps you sometimes see. :S

So yeah, turns out changing trains was actually extremely complicated. The internet suggested I’d only have to change trains once to get to my destination, actually I had to change three times. THAT’S next level. And when you take into consideration I turned back at one point because I was confused and needed to ask a member of staff for help, the journey was even more complex. Once off the train, I quickly realised my hand drawn map of the local area was useless, so I couldn’t even dream of finding the party. I thought just a few details would be fine, but nope. I was thinking ‘I’ve made a huge mistake coming here. There’s a very real chance I’ll have to skip the celebration and go home. I’d have to write a blog called ‘The Day I Rode the Trains, Part 2’.’ It’s been a while since a planned outing turned into nothing more than a rubbish journey, but sadly with my undiagnosed brain condition, at some point that was almost inevitable, too. Not completely without hope, I asked directions from pedestrians, bus drivers, taxi drivers too busy to drive me, and some other guy in his car, but it just wasn’t good enough. Yes, I was lost.

But success, the venue I was told to travel to - The Old School Yard - pretty much came out of nowhere. I found it! I’m glad I didn’t find a taxi as, well, the walk from the station to the venue should have only lasted 30 seconds. That sounds bad, but you must remember there were FOUR(!!) different roads to go down after leaving the station. Was the victory an awesome feeling? Usually it would be, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to spend too much time at the party or I’d miss the trains home. It wouldn’t be as bad as me saying ‘Hello! Merry Christmas!… Well bye!’ but it wouldn’t be a million miles away, either. I was actually bang on time there, but the other people arrived early, so it didn’t matter. I quickly ordered a cocktail and got one free because it was happy hour! However, the cocktail was way too expensive, and it was pretty much just ginger beer and a tiny bit of vodka, so I didn’t really feel too happy about it. The drink may have been given a fancy name, but it was basic and just tasted of ginger beer. Maybe I’d have preferred it not to be ‘happy hour’ (or rather ‘less dishonest hour’) as it actually made it just a little bit hard to walk straight. People in the area are often viewed as dangerous, but it was my time to be dangerous as that’s what alcohol does to you. It makes you angry. Consequently thugs ran away from ME. I even made a few cry. No, only joking, I just felt relaxed.

As my time was so limited, I only really had one conversation with someone and that was about how to get home. I WAS given good advice, but again, not a festive thing to talk about. I kind of did a bit of standing around after that. I also ate the lime in one of my drinks. I was quite literally a limey. Sadly for the American who later turned up, he missed that and didn’t have a chance for a witty remark. But it worked out for me. I didn’t want to get my feelings hurt, and I didn’t. I’m used to eating small slices of limes, but the one in my cocktail was pretty much whole. Too far, eating it wasn’t enjoyable. But I like to think it was healthy, maybe? Yes, Google says they are! I’m not suggesting bartenders put poisonous ingredients in their products, but ingredients that are bad for you? Who knows? I mean alcohol isn’t great for you, maybe limes give you diarrhoea? It doesn’t sound unbelievable, at least to me. A ruined day. After about 15 minutes, I thought it best to go home. A short party, a very short party, but let’s be sensible. Wow. The walk BACK to the train station sure was easy. You know what? It was so easy, I decided to go to the party again, where I would chill out and say nothing for another 15 minutes! Not too bad!

When I went back to the station for real, I found I had to wait 40 minutes until the next train home which was also the last. Not only that, the train was delayed! I should have been partying by standing around and doing nothing again! >:( Not only that, I needed a pee. Making things even worse, the train was getting more and more delayed. Only by a few minutes, but enough to concern me. The commuters were told that the upcoming train would be skipping one stop for whatever reason, which did boost my mood just a tiny bit. Not because it affected me in any way, but because at least some people would be getting powned as they say. It just bought me peace of mind to know other people would be annoyed, as I simply didn’t know if it was possible to hold in so much wee. Once on the train, I was clearly in agony, and someone asked if I needed to go to the toilet. Dear God, yes! Things were only getting worse and worse, it was terrible. But I had a plan - take a pee in my home town petrol station. Sure it’s only open 1 out of 2 times at night, but there was hope. After leaving the final stop, I ran to the station and thank God it was open. I did the longest pee in many many years and it felt awesome. Then I walked home. That’s it! Bye!

Sorry, if that blog was too expected, but sorry. Just the way it was. :(