Birthdays and toilet lollies

Friday was Briony’s birthday, so we went on the town after work to celebrate. Things didn’t quite go to plan, but we did have a good night anyway. The first pub we went to had stopped serving food. The next one had almost stopped serving. We drank. Then Briony decided we should all have Aftershocks. Aftershock is kind of a legal version of the most potent form of absinth. But Aftershock tastes like kids’ medicine. It is vile. We all downed a shot. That was when we started hallucinating…
I realised I was going mad when I saw a man in stripey top, and thought he had a boob tube on. Several times I looked at him, and could simply not see anything other than that dark patch around his chest. Many will say I was drunk. I will say that I felt as sober as anything, and that it was the Aftershock. Two small bottles of Becks does not make someone drunk when they are used to a glass or two of wine 2 or 3 times a week. I could walk fine, I had complete control of my speech, but my eyesight and brain were not functioning in their normal way. They just couldn’t connect to each other. Then DB went to the loo to clean his contact lenses (perhaps he was having the same problem and thought it was the lenses).
He came back with a look of utter bewilderment. He had met a man in the toilet. The man had a large mop and bucket with him, so DB assumed he was a cleaner. But then the man started to get out some lollipops and place them on the sink counter. DB washed his hands. The man came over and sprayed them with liquid soap or something. DB got slightly afraid, and the Aftershock being what it is, he also became confused. Varsity is not the kind of chain to offer a toilet assistant. Particularly in the gents. They sell vibrators in a machine in the ladies loo. For a fiver. They are not classy at all. DB decided to run before it got too risky.
When he came and told us, we laughed. We thought it was the booze talking (but luckily DB refrained from performing his fave joke on the subject). S went in to see. He came back some time later with a completely stumped look on his face. The man had asked S if he wanted some perfume for his pussy, and performed the appropriate crotch grabbing action (luckily on himself, not on S). Or a lolly. S ran.
Some time later, waiting for B to arrive and yawning a little (as I pointed out, being tired at 10pm when you started drinking at 5pm is pretty much the same as going out at 8 and being tired 1am, so we aren’t getting older and more decrepit really), S disappeared. He came back with 6 toilet lollipops. He had bought edible items from the blokes loo. Apparently, the toilet man want a quid each for them, so S proclaimed that he would not be paying that much. So the toilet man gave him a once in a lifetime offer of 6 for two quid. You can buy the bloody things in the shop for 25p each, so he was still ripped off. But none of us really wanted to open them. They’ve been in the loos! Although we did fight over the flavours. The last one left over was Herb flavour, which we happily interpreted, in our Aftershock haze, to be Herpes flavour. Having been stored in the blokes’ lav of a pub, it wouldn’t surprise me…
I have not heard from the others yet as to whether they are alive, managed to stop longer than DB and yours truely, and got to dance like they planned. I do hope they can see still.