Weekend Drinking?

Now before we get started here, may I make quite clear that all weekend, the only drink to pass my lips was a small glass of White Zinfandel with a large lunch, and very nice it was too. I was driving the rest of the weekend, so that was any further drinking well and truly off the menu for me, because as we established in last week's post Going 'Out' Out, I am a total lightweight!


Anyway, back to this weekend, and having enjoyed a very fun (and equally breezy) day at Dover Castle with D, his kids and Miss. D, followed by an equally fun time seeing the lovely Stuart and Jules at The Whitehorse Dover, we headed back home.

Miss. D, was (and I cringe with embarrassment at having to write this) just a little bit desperate to watch the Eurovision Song Contest. In fairness, I enjoyed it as a child, when Sir Terry tore each and every act apart, but nowadays, I really can't stomach it; sincere apologies to those of you whom love it. Anyway, she decided that since her Dad was watching it, she would spend the night there, affording yours truly a night off.  D was gigging again so I decided to pop along, why not? It certainly beat being stuck indoors on my own on a Saturday night.

Now this whole going out on my own thing, was a seriously big deal because whilst I'm out I'm happy to be on my own, but I don't like to walk into a venue alone, particularly a pub, so I arranged to text D when I arrived and get him to escort me in (because I am a lady and as my boyfriend that's his job...I think?). I must say, I was rather pleased with how I was looking and even more pleased to safely pull into the car park, but not as pleased as I was to see my lovely boyfriend come to collect me.

No sooner had I walked in and ordered a drink (Apple and Melon J2O, if you're interested), than one very drunk chap looks up the bar and proceeds to slur at me that it's his birthday. I turn round find a bar stool to clamber on to (I tried to do it gracefully, but I'm pretty sure I failed, those stalls are high when you're only just over 5 feet tall) and blow me if there's not another very drunk man sat next to me. Now I will say that this second chap, though very intoxicated, was actually a very polite and pleasant gentleman (and I don't use the term gentleman lightly). Throughout the evening, I was accosted by a total of five, yes five, drunkards, three of whom were completely hammered when I arrived at 8.30pm. Do people not realise that there is no last orders at 11pm nowadays? I was truly shocked, even when I did go out drinking, I would have considered 8.30pm far too early to be three sheets to the wind. I'll grant you that from a sober person's point of view it was truly hilarious, especially watching the birthday boy trying to dance when he could barely stand, and if I had a pound for every time he introduced himself to me I could have bought the whole pub drinks and still had change.

Next morning, I decided that after a long night a visit to the local Weatherspoon's for breakfast was a good idea. We got there a little after 10.15am, chose our breakfasts and went to the bar to order. Now, forgive me, but in my ignorance, I assumed that the normal beverage of choice to accompany a cooked breakfast (or otherwise), is a choice of tea, coffee, or a fruit juice; perhaps, if you're feeling very daring, maybe a hot chocolate. Oh, how wrong was I? Apparently, the trend nowadays, at least according to the older couple at the table across from us was a bottle of Shiraz. Red wine for breakfast, who'd have thought it? Oh and did the pair of them manage to  polish off that bottle, yes they most certainly did! D. then spotted the husband (who had just consumed half a bottle of bloody Shiraz for breakfast) driving his wife in a taxi! Yes, you read that correctly, he is a taxi driver!

Anyway, digressing again, sorry, when I looked around the bar, I noticed something, with the exception of the winos behind us, all the people eating breakfast were indeed drinking tea or coffee, whilst those not eating were sat with a beer, getting a nice early start, no doubt. So my question is this, because I am still confused and clearly out of touch with regards to drinking etiquette, but how early is it acceptable to start drinking, because surely anything before 12pm cannot be right and is it OK to be completely intoxicated to the point of falling over before 10.45pm? Answers on a postcard please, or maybe just in the comments box.