Do I have to put the hat on too...?

"...Three things..." I start, cradling the phone; my voice husky from far too little sleep and far too much alcohol. The Nurse, reticent on the other end.

"One. You tried to snog me on the dancefloor..."

I am scared the Nurse has stopped breathing.

"Two. I have photographic evidence of you dressed in a PVC policewoman's outfit..."

I know she's alive as she has issued a little whimper.

"Three. I have lost Scott..."

I hang up. The bed is spinning in the room, and despite me holding on for dear life, I cannot stop it.

It had started innocently enough. A few drinks with the Nurse, and then a text from Scott saying he would be in town. A brand new credit card and the company of 2 of my dearest friends later, things, as they do... well, all went a little downhill.

It started at Bimini's, followed us through to champagne cocktails at Lucy Mae Brown, a few cheeky drinks at Morrisey, and then... sadly, all fell apart at Doolin's.

"Whatever you do," the Nurse says, "no shots..."

Oops.

A nod to the waitress and the table of young men beside us later, and the Nurse had forgiven me. Wrapped as she was around a delightful young man whose name, I believe, escapes us all.

A dare later, we were stood in Granville Street's finest. I said..." just pick it up, hold it against you and ask the complete stranger what he thinks...".

When I turned around, The Nurse was gone. A bump, a mutter and a crowd of young men pointing me in the right direction.

"Do I have to put the hat on, too...?"

Stepping out of the dressing room, resplendent in PVC.

"...or are the glasses enough?"

I am speechless. And so I do what only a best friend would do.

I commit that memory to technology. Drag her by the hand and take her back to the bar.