Reasons not to dine in the dark

I really want to tell you what happened.

If nothing more, it will serve as an educational piece. 

But I don't think I can handle the truth.

It would be inaccurate to believe that what happens in the dark, stays in the dark, and much more accurate to say that when you leave the darkness, you find yourself changed in horrible ways and forever damaged.
No, this is not a Guillermo del Toro film.
Goddamit, this is my life.

Basically guys, don't think it's a good idea to get intoxicated and then head down into the pitch black with twelve of your friends, and your blind guide Christina, for a three course meal. And if you take nothing more away from this blog, at least take that.
The most significant sign that you're making a mistake, is if you fall down the stairs of the restaurant, when the lights are still very much on. I'm not going to say who did that, but it definitely wasn't me. I bruise like a peach.

I've devised a list of what not to do, if you're stupid enough to attend this event:



-After falling down the stairs, don't sit at the table silently, until your neighbour says, 'Are you okay?' and say, 'Well I've been crying for a bit, but I think I'm nearly finished.' 

-Don't down wine like it's juice, just because the experience of not being able to see anything is closer than you've ever felt to your own inevitable death.

-Don't decide not to eat the food, just because it tastes disgusting. You will pay £75 for this evening, and all that wine on an empty stomach leads to some pretty humiliating decisions from you later. Eat up.

-Don't encourage the men getting their penises out at the dinner table. Or submit to the kiss rapists, running around trying to get some. In fact, don't even notice this is happening, until debrief the following day.

-Don't fall over in the road. Again, this wasn't me. Who could fall over and cry twice in one night? Someone else, that's who. Don't let everyone crowd around you while you hysterically howl and then to the question 'Is it one of those things where your upset at the shock, and you're actually fine?' admit 'Yes, I think you might be right.'

-Don't get taken home by an equally paralytic GingerBeard, devastated over your skinned knee (are you ten?), sob for the full journey, alternating between shouting 'There's something wrong with me!' and 'My tights are ruined!'

-Don't throw up on the platforms of three different tube stations.

-Don't walk around the flat you share with six strangers in your bra and pants.

-Don't spend all of Sunday throwing up and trying to understand the story your cuts and bruises are telling.

-Don't admit the above to your mother. Then don't write a blog so that everyone else knows about it as well.

In my absence, the below occurred, and I think you can agree that without me, the night went downhill:

A dwarf was rescued. I don't know from what. I've only got second hand snippets for you. Presumably one of them had to rescue the dwarf from another one of them.
They tried to break into a pub.
Laundry was done
Someone developed amnesia
The depravity which was born in the dark, continued into the light, inside numerous taxis and bars.