The Art of Puking on a Double Decker Bus

Amazingly it wasn't me who puked, it did however sum up the night in pure American fashion.  Americans are known for doing everything in excess, drinking included.  My new American friend, Ashley and I proved that stereotype to be true last night.

London Met held their International Students party last night at the Rocket (the campus bar/lounge).  Discovering the cheap drinks and shot early in the night, we were off to a pretty good start.  We get along very well, I think we both remind each other of people from home.  Not to mention its comforting to have someone that is going through the same thing as you.  We debated heading to another bar but considering that we would only have an hour of drinking at a pub we stayed and took advantage of the cheap buzz we had going on. 

By midnight there were a ton of people dancing, we watched from the bar, neither of us dance unless bombed so we worked on that with another shot of Jager.  Shortly after two Jamaicans (names unknown this morning) were buying us beer.  At some point in the night, we were dancing with said Jamaicans.  A little later in the night, I lost Ashley, which was fine as I was having my own little party with a couple of European dudes on the dancefloor. 

I'm not sure exact times but I believe around 2 we stumbled out of the bar and headed to the bus to go back to Ashley's place.  My first ride on a double decker bus was pretty exciting (exciting for a drunk girl, sober girls realize its just a bus!) until Ashley started looking funny, I know this look so I immediately stood up.  And then she puked all over the floor of the bus, the poor dude in front of us was understandably offended and ran to the back of the bus.  We jumped up, I grabbed Ashley and we ran off the bus two stops early.  As soon as we got off the bus, the situation was hysterical.  It was even funnier to me since I wasn't the puker.  In college a boot and ralley was the sign of a good night, in London a boot still might be considered a sign of a good night.

After waking up her roommate, who was not amused by our story, I left to catch a cab home.  I found out that there are virtually no cabs a 3am, so I did what I always do...drunk dialed.  The Barrister was awakened to call me a cab, it must have been the most annoying drunk dial ever, I couldn't tell him where to send the cab.  Luckily one drove by 10 minutes later.  I got a pretty extensive history lesson on the way home, the cabbie was so intent on teaching me the difference between "British" and "English" that he forgot to turn on the meter.  Which was great since he only charged me 10 pounds!

Tonight is Ashley's Welcome to America party, it promises to be filled with beer pong, flip cup, jungle juice, and American snacks!  Looks like Round 2 tonight!