Number of Drinks and Behavioral differences

ONE - Relaxed. To most drinkers the first pint or whatever disappears almost unnoticed and will have little or no effect on speech/coordination etc. Conversation will be of the polite, perfunctory variety e.g. soaps, school days, sport and the price of net curtains, etc. Some beer-mat flicking will be in evidence, as the ice hasnt quite melted yet. Potentially a good time for the politically incorrect amongst you to tell a bad taste or sexist joke. Did you hear the one about the one-eyed Latvian and the chicken?

TWO - Merry with the taste of that naughty little intoxicant in your mouth. The second drink is invariably downed at a much faster rate than the first, with everyone anticipating the revelry to come. Conversation will have picked up probably now touching on sports, soaps, school days – what else is there? Oh yeah -and in non-specific detail, sex. Its time to consider your first visit to the toilet, get a round of drinks on your way back. This is a good time to go to buy drinks, the bar will be easily accessible and if not everyone has shown up yet, you will get away with a smaller round, enough said.

THREE - Tipsy. Inhibitions start to break down as the alcohol puts to bed the spoilsport part of the brain that controls reasonable behavior. The urge to consume copious amounts of salted bar-snacks will begin about now and last right up until the first wave of nausea strikes. Conversation still on soaps and sports – however, the sex talk becomes more specific and of a “Id give that one” nature. Still a weight off your mind, you will have forgotten all about the price of net curtains. Could be a good time for the first belching contest of the evening, boys in particular go a bundle on this type of competition.

FOUR - Half-cut voices are without doubt getting louder and the same jokes are now much, much funnier than they seemed earlier. The incessant repetition of some dodgy comedians redundant catch phrase will also never fail to get laughs…very poor. Hands on top of your pint, as anything else is an open invitation to get to have a bar snack thrown in it. The conversation now turns from the idle fantasy of partners you wished youd had to graphic detail of the partners youve had. Hand/eye coordination is now on the difficult side, boys take care not to catch your foreskin (or anyone elses in your zip fly). Some girls will be working up to the first of the evenings “nobody likes me – everybody hates me” tears in the toilet crises.

FIVE - Drunk. Definitely the best part of the evening, everything is funny and everybody loves each other, this is what social drinking is all about. However, its all downhill from now on, as those deep dark primeval urges – such as the need to eat the flesh of a dead animal or more commonly to procreate, take over – and man is driven to satiate these ancient desires come what may.

SIX TO SEVEN - Rat-arsed. Anything you say from now on you will regret in the morning, thats if anybody else can remember what the fuck you were talking about, but mark my words, theres always one who will. Conversation will now be on a one-to-one basis, as nobody possesses the necessary social skills to interact with anybody but the person nearest them. Thoughts return to the flesh of the opposite sex, will they ever go away? Some people expound the theory that you always tell the truth when youre drunk but I am more the opinion you always say whatever is necessary to end up in the pantyhose/y-fronts of the person youve got them most chance to do so with. Vomiting is now a distinct possibility, a clandestine tactical chuck at this stage of the evening is advisable as a public one later could ruin any chance of a meaningful sexual encounter and will also leave room for a curry.

EIGHT TO TEN - Shit-faced (alternatively Wankered). It is now that time of the evening when your fellow drinkers undergo massive mood changes. Some people get aggressive when theyve had one over eight, particularly those whose drink youve just hoovered. Others get maudlin, teary and start to question the purpose of their existence of this planet. Hey, if only theyd realize that there isnt one and that having fun down the pub with friends is as close as it gets. Me? I know its hard to imagine but I find I get even wittier, even more charming and better looking at this stage in the proceedings. Unfortunately, nobody else seems to notice – pissheads.

ELEVEN TO FIFTEEN - Esperanto. For some reason you will find yourself totally fluent in Esperanto, however, nobody shares your bilingual talent. It is also quite possible that youll fall over at any minute. What the hey, dont worry about it, if ever there was a time to fall arse over tit, this is it – it wont hurt in the slightest and if youve got any friends left in the morning you can proudly show off your beer wounds. By now your carnal wants will be replaced by the overwhelming desire to sleep in your own bed – if you dont live nearby, the pavement will look ever so tempting, particularly to back-sufferers as its orthopedic qualities are well known.

SIXTEEN PLUS - Clinically dead. Youll feel like youve been eaten by a wolf and spewed out over a cliff – but dont you worry about it, what better place to sleep off your hangover and try desperately to remember what the fuck you did the night before, than at work. Never again till the next time (or even lunchtime), mines a pint and get one in for yourself – cheers then.