And after a really rough night of drinking, one friend was completely pissed drunk and could hardly walk or go home. So three other guys bring him home.
Who would have thought that it would take a good half hour just dragging him from the entrance of his condo to his doorstep?!
The signs were ominous when he started getting physical with the taxi uncle. Upon alighting, we realized we were one condo away from his actual abode. Amidst the screaming and coaxing for him to walk to his condo entrance, he actually managed to do so and we argued that he should just be allowed to walk the less than 100m to lobby on his own.
Instead, he who argue that we should help him all the way back prevailed. How right he was, there was absolutely no way he could've made it back to his lobby and would have ended up sleeping inthe middle of the carpark or even worse, drown in his own (no barrier) pool.
So two of us followed him in first. But he struggled and kept trying to break free to walk himself, only to collapse after three steps alone. So we enlisted the help of the third guy. And then we couldn't get his house unit number out of him.
This is where it is a problem. Because none of us were invited to his housewarming party! So no one knew where he lived!
So we dragged him to Lobby 3 primarily based on the fact that it was the nearest lobby to the entrance. Only to have the drunkard slur that it wasn't correct.
It didn't help that it was near the pool. So once near the pool he tried to push two of them into the pool. I mean we were on the boardwalk by the pool so all it took was a misstep and it would've been all wet for us.
Along the way he was throwing his phone and wallet all over the place. We're talking about flinging. How both items actually survive the next day I have no idea.
Then we struggled to Lobby 2 and realized that was wrong. For some reason we were misled to Lobby 3 again! And it was wrong obviously.
We couldn't find Lobby 1 and when we thought we did, it turned out to be the letterbox lobby! WTF?!
Then the drunkard suddenly back pounced on our smallest in the pack, bear hugging him from behind and executing an MMA-worthy takedown. The impact of the fall hurt the smallest's wrist. So bad that he cried. The drunkard was just lying on the floor semi asleep.
At this stage it was no longer funny. Someone was hurt and we were lost. Thankfully his wife finally called. She said she could hear us from the moment we came into the condo. And gave us proper directions.
We found our Lobby 1 and took the lift up to the right floor, and found the inviting hands of the drunkard's wifey. We were so glad to offload him.
By the time we walked out of the condo, the taxi uncle had such a huge smile on his face as he had the meter running. We had taken a good half hour inside there struggling with the drunkard. The trip from Clarke Quay that dropped for pax ending up in Woodlands cost a whopping $60+. Enough to cover half his rental for an hour's work.
What a night that was, really.