Thoughts on a Drunk

I've been young. I've been drunk. Often both together.

I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the scenario which involves wandering a little unsteadily along the street in stocking feet, clutching impossibly high heels in one hand, and occasionally hugging a lamp post. Admittedly, I've usually been the slightly-more-sober-friend (query: is this likely to be a cause, or an effect, of being unable to walk in really high heels to start with?)

BUT: I'm sure that when I was young and foolish (and occasionally drunk) I'm sure that that stage in the evening didn't happen until very late. In fact, I'm pretty sure it didn't happen until the following morning, around 2 a.m. Usually in time to miss the last bus home and end up sleeping on a friend's floor. Or, if one is fortunate in one's friends, spending the night sleeping at a friend's home, and only realising when you get up the next day later the same day that the friend has given you the beds and has spent the night in the sofa.

Anyway, I was out at the theatre last night, and it struck me, as I was walking back to my car,and having to manoeuvre around several young women in that condition  that 10.15 p.m. was awfully early to be in that state.

Am I getting old?