I started 2018 with a phone call to the police

“3… 2… 1… Happy New Year!” 

It’s finally 2018! Addy, Carol and I had decided about half an hour earlier to countdown the year in Sixth, one of the allegedly popular clubs in Sligo. Soon, Addy deemed the men in the club unworthy and we left. The weather’s not too bad, Irish pubgoers wished us a happy new year, we killed the dance floor, we had a few drinks– the perfect start of the year!

We met Shanna and Evie, two girls whose name we will soon learn, right outside our door. Their friend, Niamh, had too many drinks and is passed out. Could we hide her for a bit while they call security to replace their missing keycard? We thought it over and agreed. After all, it should take 5 minutes tops. What could go wrong?

I watched four girls haul a body across the lawn. Niamh, as we will soon learn, was way beyond gone. Shanna kept shooting us apologetic glances. I waved my hand to dismiss it. “It’s not your fault your friends were irresponsible enough to get so hammered.”, I wanted to tell her. Evie plopped Niamh on our couch. I noticed scrapes and bruises on Niamh’s legs. She must have stumbled and fallen over a lot on her way here. Even though I would never put myself in this situation, I felt for her. After all, girls should stick together.

Before shit hit the fan

10 minutes in and all attempts to call security failed. Guess they’re taking a break due to New Years too. Panic set in– you can see it in the girls’ expressions. Realising that they’re stuck here, they started frantically calling people they know. There’s Jerry who lives in the hotel down the road, Ben who owns a house in Sligo… The panic had not sobered up the girls. If anything, it slipped off their pretence of sobriety when we met them. Shanna is now curled up with Niamh. Anna started munching on a box of Ritz on the table. Laura threw bits of tissue from her purse to her floor and piped up enthusiastically:

It’s okay, I give good head. I’ll take one for the team. I can blow Jerry if he’d let us stay with him!

Oh my God, what have we gotten ourselves into?

Jerry and Ben didn’t pick up the phone. Stress permeates that air, both from them and us. They continue stress-eating and laughing while the three of us stared helplessly. Niamh was blissfully oblivious to it all. We’re praying to the holy Flying Spaghetti Monster with every fibre of our being to get them out of our house. Flying Spaghetti Monster didn’t pick up our calls too.

They decided to go get a taxi from the hotel down the road after much deliberation. 10 minutes, they swore. 10 minutes and they’ll be back with a taxi to collect their friends. Anna even exchanged numbers with Addy to reassure us. Evie kept trying to get Laura to go with them, but Laura insisted to stay with Niamh in her drunken logic. Evie, Anna and Shanna left while Laura started pulling things out of Addy’s suitcase to make herself more comfortable. We stopped her. She proclaimed in irritating cheerfulness that she’ll find something. Then, she sat down on the couch with Niamh and passed out. 

Niamh and Laura passed out on the couch I was supposed to sleep in
I was optimistic that they’ll be back, but Addy was not. Half an hour later, Anna picked up our call and said they’ll be back with a taxi in 10 minutes. I heard glass clanking in the background, which means they’re in a bar or restaurant somewhere. In hindsight, maybe this is their plan all along– to leave their friends behind, so they don’t have to deal with them. An amazing breed of people, we’ve concluded. Only scums abandon their friends in a stranger’s house. Addy went to sleep but Carol and I stayed awake to make sure we’re not robbed blind by morning. The taxi never came and Anna stopped picking up our calls.

We called the Garda, the Irish police, to try and kick them out. Turns out they can’t do anything because we invited them in. They are right, but in my fuming rage, I cursed the Garda for being so inefficient. The Malaysian Police would have removed the girls by force. Still no news from those bitches half an hour later, and we have two drunk women on our couch. One snoring, the other chanting “dicks, dicks, dicks”. Again, an amazing breed of people.

About 4am, a man rang the doorbell. He knows Niamh and had come to get her to Evie’s house. I explained that Evie lost her key card and had disappeared. In disbelief, he called Evie, who kept changing the subject. Then, he called Anna, who picked up the phone instantly and explained everything to him. Great, now he’s stranded too. I told him to bring Laura and Niamh somewhere else. Nicely, of course, but he kept shrugging me off. This is getting ridiculous. I launched a sob story about me needing the couch as it’s my bed and I need to sleep. I honestly thought they’d have empathy and leave.

Mick, the guy, dragged Laura and Niamh onto the floor, waking both of them up in the process. Niamh went straight for the beer in the fridge and offered Mick one. She was giggling and laughing at every single word we said. Sympathy for her became instant hatred. Mick laid on the floor and scolded Niamh before he tried to sleep. 

Realisation dawned. What the fuck? He’s staying too?! 

I was livid. I told them to get out. I told them I can’t let them stay. Mick flashed us his wounded dog look that would have made my heart melt if I wasn’t so pissed off. It’s freezing outside and we haven’t got anywhere to go, he reasoned. Not wanting to sound like a bully, I relented. We negotiated for 6:30am. Niamh and Laura whispered to one another. I caught the words “chill” and “uptight” in their whispers. Mick shushed them. I have a feeling it’s about us.
Three pairs of unwanted legs in my living room

An hour to go and this will be a distant dream. I plugged in my earphones to drown out the earth-shattering snores of our three unwanted guests. It’s all going to be over soon. It’s all going to be over soon. 

6:30am came and they were still out cold. My gentle shaking to wake them up escalated into shoving, pinching and pulling. Didn’t work. Exasperated, I set my alarm to the most obnoxious beeping I could find. Didn’t work. By some form of miracle, Mick woke up. He was still trying to negotiate for more time. No, not this time buddy. He left to look for some acquaintance who’s living down the street. I fumed, why can’t you do it in the beginning then? 

Not wanting to kick a fuss, I waited. I’m resolved to pull both those girls out the door if Mick doesn’t return in five minutes. He did, and he took Niamh and Laura with him. You can see the relief on his face. Niamh didn’t want to leave, and she’ll make it known. In that five-minute span, she attempted to steal a pair of flip flops (“I can’t go out with no shoes!” Guess what, I don’t care, bitch.) and insulted us by insinuating that we took her purse. Laura is out of it; she couldn’t even remember how she got to our house in the first place.

As soon as they’re out, I sighed. Oh boy, if this is how 2018’s starting, I can’t wait. It can’t get worse than this.
November 5, 2017
January 10, 2018

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