Hangover from the diaries of a the fake drunkard

When you are drunk alone you get senti not knowing what to do next. When you are drunk with your friends you speak your heart out. When you are drunk with dudes from different Business schools you enter into a group discussion syndrome where you argue you counter argue and you just never give up. You talk about people of whom you would have never thought of. Not at least in the last thousand years. That unwanted unloved unimagined lad would define the next few hours of your supposedly exotic night out. You fight for him. You fight against him and you never realise that the result is not in any way going to make any difference to this lad's life. However the discussion goes on and on as the bottles keep rolling uncorked and empty on the floor frothed with delicacies from far off continents and the left overs from the ought to be dinner.
The gang realises that cigarettes are in short supply and it is already 2 in the morning. The drunkards hesitantly decided to go for a ride down the block about a quarter of a mile away - only because the man burdened with the "power of attorney" judged the pilot of the car to be not insane. Guess what. Drunkards even imagine that the other one could have been a safe driver. Irony. There is no other driver. The pack safely returned from their short trip except for the fact that they would have given a nasty nightmare for the neighbourhood dogs.
Peeing in the open was never as exciting as awesome as after getting drunk. You tend to break the status quo. You are the leader in waiting the world is looking upto.
Next the men decide to dangle their legs in a well maintained pool. The only problem is when one of our magnanimous friend decided to shoot one of his slippers into the green waters. Salute to my self proclaimed idealist friend. Ideal is the world till there are not too many like you my dear idealist.
After climbing back the ten storeys trying to do service to the nation by not spending on electricity for the lift,  these new born social activists drentched their bellies for the one last time.
The night ends with the story being  documented of how men from different occupations can still be the same animal we call humans. Hopefully it will be a memorable night. I mean not like the other nights that we forget once we fall unto or bed drunk and pull on the sheets.