(points finger accusingly at her brother)
I was feeling a bit poorly over the weekend (I'm corpse-like today, but how and ever) so when Saturday night rolled around, I dropped around to a friend's house for a few pre-pub scoops but never made the pub part. As the rest of em headed out the door at 10.30 with bottles under their oxters (for the walk) I headed home to bed and Harry Potter. Woke up Sunday in my parents' house, coughing like a consumptive and cursing my ill-health, grumpy as fuck. I decided to share my misery by waking my brother, who'd made it to the pub and was doubtless in much worse shape. But the bedroom door was open, as were the curtains, and there was no sign of him.
Two hours came and went, and still there was no sign of him. I went and did some shopping, tried his phone while I was out in case he needed me to come fetch him. Nada. Got home, and Mam really needed to speak to him to get a phone number for a contractor friend of his who was supposed to call to the house. Tried calling him again. Nada. So I called 4 of our mates who'd been out with him the night before, to see if any of them knew of his whereabouts. One had his jumper, another had his jacket and wallet. The third had last seen him at a taxi rank with friend #4, who wasn't answering her phone.
Then I heard a toilet flush upstairs, followed by a thumping lurch and his unmistakable cough. I went up and there he was, fully dressed, bleary eyed and still wankered. Turns out he'd been in his room all along, but we'd missed him as he'd slept lengthways across the bottom of the bed, fully dressed, on top of the duvet.
I was feeling a bit poorly over the weekend (I'm corpse-like today, but how and ever) so when Saturday night rolled around, I dropped around to a friend's house for a few pre-pub scoops but never made the pub part. As the rest of em headed out the door at 10.30 with bottles under their oxters (for the walk) I headed home to bed and Harry Potter. Woke up Sunday in my parents' house, coughing like a consumptive and cursing my ill-health, grumpy as fuck. I decided to share my misery by waking my brother, who'd made it to the pub and was doubtless in much worse shape. But the bedroom door was open, as were the curtains, and there was no sign of him.
Two hours came and went, and still there was no sign of him. I went and did some shopping, tried his phone while I was out in case he needed me to come fetch him. Nada. Got home, and Mam really needed to speak to him to get a phone number for a contractor friend of his who was supposed to call to the house. Tried calling him again. Nada. So I called 4 of our mates who'd been out with him the night before, to see if any of them knew of his whereabouts. One had his jumper, another had his jacket and wallet. The third had last seen him at a taxi rank with friend #4, who wasn't answering her phone.
Then I heard a toilet flush upstairs, followed by a thumping lurch and his unmistakable cough. I went up and there he was, fully dressed, bleary eyed and still wankered. Turns out he'd been in his room all along, but we'd missed him as he'd slept lengthways across the bottom of the bed, fully dressed, on top of the duvet.
