I have discovered the secret of true love, and it is not a man. Let’s face it ladies, the gents these days just aren’t written the way they used to be. And if we’re honest with ourselves – even Benedick was… well a bit of a dick.
True love can be found late late LATE on a Saturday night, after copius amounts of alcohol and excessive quantities of pizza, when your bestest girlfriend quietly excuses herself from the throws of a party and disappears upstairs. For quite some time.
A few weeks after she went back home to the States, Dawson’s Creek sent me an email which I received while drinking my morning coffee and listening to Bill and Sian read out the day’s newspaper headlines so I didn’t have to. It said;
‘I’m currently locked in a bathroom with my room mate, holding her hair back because I can’t find a hair tie, while she pukes her guts up. I have never appreciated you more! I love you!’
DC was of course referring to the Saturday night in London town where she got so BLIND DRUNK on free wine that she locked herself in a loo at Balans and refused to come out, earning me a lovely 3 hours worth of door breaking and hair holding before having to hop a cab with her back to her house on account of her forgetting her own address.
I found myself in a similar position with Blondie on Saturday night, while she upchucked a gallon of gin and something or other, and several slices of pizza which, to be fair, she probably shouldn’t have been sneaking what with a wheat intolerance and all.
It’s been a long time since I got so drunk that I spent half the evening with my head in a toilet. In fact – I’m not entirely sure I’ve ever done it, though I came close at a certain West End new years party about 6 years ago. Let’s just say I was lucky it had rained by the time anyone made it through Stage Door the next day.
However – it’s comforting to know that even without Mr Darcy at my side (and let’s face it – the man would probably call a maid over to deal with it anyway) that if I did happen to find myself in that situation there would always be someone around to hold back my hair.
Because that, dear reader, is real love.