full moon blues

Just what the fuck was I doing last night? I must have had, what, fourteen pints or something. I can’t remember most of it. It’s now 4pm, and for the last hour I’ve been squatted over Dave’s toilet. I can barely stand up. Oh, God. Oh, God, Oh, God. What did I do?

The last I remember was Chris saying that it’s the full moon. It’s the full moon, make a wish. Make a fucking wish. Fucking bollocks. I must have enjoyed it, mind you – the best weekends are the ones you don’t remember.

“Oi! Andrew, mate, come out of there!” I stand up, nearly fall over again. I catch sight of myself in the mirror; God, I look like shit. Karina was there last night. Karina…my God. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid. Like kiss her. Or try to kiss her.

I stumble to the door, slip on the tiles. Why’s the floor so wet? Oh, God, I’ve gone and pissed all over his floor, haven’t I. Shit. I don’t remember. I push the door open with my elbow.

“Andrew?” He shuts the door right in my face. I hear him muttering something. “Andrew, what’s happened to your arm?” For the last hour or so, I felt something prickling on my arm – that’s when you really know you’re worse for wear, innit? I thought I saw these things – like, black things. Spiders’ legs. Or something.

I look down. My head’s spinning. Oh, God. I’m so hairy. Last night – last night, there was that girl. Alice. As I went to the bar, last night, she came up to me, she put her arms around me, she said, Andrew, my love, how are you doing? And Alice, you know, I’d not seen her in a long time; I went to school with her – but then…she bit me. She fucking bit me.

My ears – fuck I must have drank a lot last night – they’re different. My nose is too long – maybe it’s just me, fucking Dave always ragging on me about my nose…I put a finger on it and my god, it’s wet, like last night I did think I was getting ill or something…

So I splash water on my face. I forgot to shave yesterday. That must be it. Yeah. I forgot. And Karina was there. My fucking God. I shouldn’t have sent that text. Why did I send it? What was I thinking?

I don’t want to come out of the bathroom.

“Andrew? You all right, fella?”
No.
I stand up, open the door. And as I look round I catch myself in the mirror. God, I look like some kind of … dog …