I opened the door to my flat and the “birthday girl” stood in the kitchen with a frown. I walked in and asked her, “why the long face?”

She started explaining how her other friend doesn’t care for her and was being rather rude. She was going on and on complaining about her friend which was very boring to me and I automatically stopped listening. I had a surprise for her in my lap that was very heavy but she wouldn’t stop yapping so I would give it to her. In the end, I looked into her tearful eyes and had to interrupt. I asked her to help me unload the bag. I pulled out the bottle of her favourite champagne, and she took out the two crates of “Bacardi Breezers” and a crate of “Smirnoff”. I had bought small bottles because she had brought a “bottle bong”. A bottle bong involves a small pipe that fits on top of a bottle, and a plastic straw which goes into the liquid, and attaches to the pipe making a breathing hole at the top.

The happiness that ran across her face was priceless. She starting chattering on about how much she loved me, and again I pretended to listen to her. She went into her room to get ready and I went to mine. I was dressing up as “Super Girl” for the party and quickly ate some food because I never miss a meal. I had two glasses of Champagne and two Bacardi Breezers from the bottle bong. The rest of the night was a blur, except I do remember being outside in the cold without a jacket and lots of loud chattering.

I woke up in the super hero costume (in my bed, thankfully) with my head banging like a drum. For the rest of the day I was told about the things that happened at the party; I was drunk before the guests came, I almost caught on fire from flicking my cigarette around and I was singing Christmas carols out in the freezing cold for passers-by.

Oh and I forgot one very important detail; I had work the next day at eight o’clock and although I wish I could say I did a good job, I can’t lie properly when I’m hung over…