Pint Effect
One pint (0.5L) - Relaxed
To most drinkers the first pint of whatever disappear almost unnoticed and
will have little or no effect on speech/co-ordination etc. Conversation will
be of the polite, perfunctory variety e.g. soaps, schooldays, sport and the
price of net curtains, etc...Some beer-mat flicking will be in evidence, as
the ice hasn't 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 pints (1L) - Merry
With a taste for it now, 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,
schooldays - what else is there? Oh yeah -and in non-specific detail, sex.
It's 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 pints (1.5L) - Tipsy
Inhibitions start to break down as the alcohol puts to bed the Spoilsport
part of the brain that controls reasonable behaviour. 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 "I'd 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 pints (2L) - Half-cut
Voices are without doubt getting louder and the same (the very same) jokes
are now much, much funnier than they seemed earlier. The incessant
repetition of some dodgy comedian's 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 you'd
had' to graphic detail of the 'partners you've had'. Hand/eye co-ordination
is now on the difficult side, boys take care not to catch your foreskin (or
anyone else's) in your zip fly. Some girls will be working up to the first
of the evening's "nobody likes me ? everybody hates me" tears in the toilet
crises.
Five pints (2.5L) - Drunk (Wazzed, Sloshed, Pissed will also do)
Definitely the best part of the evening, everything is funny and everybody
loves each other, this is what social drinking is all about and what is
always remembered. However, it's 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 pints (3-3.5L) - Rat-arsed
Anything you say from now on you will regret in the morning, that's if
anybody else can remember what the fuck you were talking about, but mark my
words, there's 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 you're drunk, but I am more of the opinion
you always say whatever is necessary to end up in the pantyhose/y-fronts of
the person you've got the 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 pints (4-5L) - 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 they've had one over the
eight, particularly those, whose drink you've just hoovered. Others get
maudlin, teary and start to question the purpose of their existence on this
planet. Hey, if only they'd realise that there isn't one and that having fun
down the pub with friends is as close as it gets.
Ten to Fifteen (5-7.5L) - Esperanto
For some reason you will find yourself totally fluent in Esperanto, however,
nobody shares your bilingual talent. It is also quite possible that you'll
fall over at any minute. What the hey, don't worry about it, if ever there
was a time to fall arse over tit, this is it - it won't hurt in the
slightest and if you've 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 don't live nearby, the
pavement will look ever so tempting, particularly to back-sufferers as its
orthopaedic qualities are well known.
Fifteen Plus (7.5L+) - Clinically Dead
You'll feel like you've been eaten by a wolf and spewed out over a cliff -
but don't 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), mine's a pint
and get one in for yourself - cheers then ....