The Running Man (part II)

This could turn into a running saga (no pun intended)….
Friday afternoon arrives and it is decided to have a couple of drinks at ‘Revolution’ in Clapham Jn. Those who may know this place as a Vodka bar (that does awesome Nacho’s) would know it has about 50 different flavours of Vodka. So meeting a couple of guys from another offshore company for a few Friday drinks there seemed a rather nice idea. After a couple of beers (and nachos) the Running Man decides that a couple of flavours of Vodka should be tasted. Enter the shots – luckily he was talked out of trying them all. We receive a couple of paddles of vodka flavours (Rasberry, strawberry, and a couple of others that I couldn’t grasp the taste of).

A bit later I needed to head to Shoreditch to a farewell party for some of my cousins mates that are heading back to Australia. It was essential that I turned up because they have rather generously given us a lot of furniture, kitchenwares, tv etc to fill our flat. Now I bring the Running Man and another mate, who will be known as the Wolf (ok probably not the hardest Alias to decipher), along as it should be a good club. The Wolf picks up some beers for the trip and we head on our merry way. The trip there was rather rowdy and it was noticeable that nobody was sitting near us in the carriage. We arrive at Old St station and the Wolf makes a dash for some amenities as The Running Man and I slowly make our way out. After leaving the station and finding the Wolf it is apparent that the Running Man has vanished into thin air. After a couple of attempts to call him, he finally answers the phone with an “I have no idea where I am!” After several minutes of searching the Wolf finds him outside of a service station munching on some chow – and being leered at by some very nefarious characters. Making a quick exit and heading to our party it is clear that the Running Man is almost out of a comprehensible vocabulary.

Arriving at the party we grab some beers and the Running Man decides to talk to anyone within his vicinity about whatever slurs from his mouth. At this stage of the evening (about 10.30) it is advised by the host that he should be taken for a walk around the park to sober up a tad before he can continue. The Wolf decides to drag the Running Man out never to be seen again. Now I cannot elaborate on the rest of their evening because I have only spoken to the Running Man whose memory vanishes around about the time we left the Vodka bar. But I can imagine the Wolf realising a lost cause when he sees one, escorting the Running Man home.


The rest of the evening turned out to be a rather big one for myself, as once the club closed we went back to the hosts house to kick on. The night is a little blurred from here but I remember walking a ridiculously long way to the tube stop to get the Northern line home (5km I am told – although it seemed a lot less). Once on the tube I had a little snooze which made me go past my stop. Luckily it was near the end of the line and I actually woke up as the tube was heading back North. It was a bit of a shock thinking I had timed it well until I came out on the wrong side of the carriage and slowly worked out what must have happened. I remembered a few other people in the tube who had still been asleep and wondered had they done something similar. You’ve got to love getting the tube home this early in the morning with a large crowd of stragglers whose evening has been as big as yours.

The Running Man

I met a friend of mine from uni whose identity will remain anonymous (although I should tell you he resembles the kids show characters who are a cross between a puppet and a mop) the other day and decided to show him around. As he had only been here for a short period we went on a bit of a pub crawl.

We worked our way from Trafalgar sq. down to and along the Thames stopping in at a number of bars. Much later we headed into Covent Garden to go to one of my favourite restaurants - Belgo's. This place has an awesome beer selection and a bucket of mussels that hit the spot after 9 hours of boozing. By the time we finished our meals my friend went to the toilet (which is a weird unisex one with a guy in there who hands you soap and towels) and was gone for about a pints worth. Getting a little worried I fixed up the bill and went in search of him to find him wandering the streets outside. I don't really know what happened and his only explanation was "I don't know what happened man, but I couldn't find my way back to the table."

Accepting this and moving on we hit another bar before we were required to head for the last train to get home. We jumped on the tube towards Victoria and sat down for a 4 stop trip. When we reached Picadilly, without warning my friend jumped up and made a dash through the closing doors. As the train departed he was running along beside the carriage. I sat there in shock with no real comprehension of what had taken place.

I arrived home and got a text saying "Fck I don't know what happened man" to which I replied "You will now be known as the Running Man"