Drunk Door

It was another raucous night at the Mop and Monkey, and although it wasn’t quite throwing out time Bob thought he’d turn in for the night. It was true that he’d had a skinful and couldn’t quite walk straight but it was raining - and what with the alcohol impairing his judgement – he clutched at his car keys and stumbled towards the exit.

To be honest, he was a bit wobbly and was pleased when two guys very helpfully made sure he’d found his ignition key and supported him either side as he walked towards the door. Bob had a feeling that this wasn’t the door he’d entered the pub through, but it was marked exit and these helpful chaps were walking him straight through. As Bob stumbled out into the cold air he seemed to fall straight into the driver’s seat. Behind him, he could have sworn he heard cheers. What a great place this Mop and Monkey was.

Back in the bar, the video screen had stopped showing MTV, and was now showing Bob’s face along with the virtual reality road that he was about to drive down. The regulars cheered as they realised that someone had fallen fowl of the Mop and Monkey rule – if you’re too sloshed to realise we’re putting you through the drunk door, you’re too drunk to drive, and you deserve everything you get.

As the cold air from the fans hit Bob, he assumed he'd stepped outside. The change of temperature did little to sober him up. Before he knew it, he was in the drivers seat. He struggled to get his key into the ignition (don’t worry, this car will start with any key) the customers back in the bar split into those who laughed at Bob’s inebriated ineptitude and those who tutted angrily. “Imagine if we’d actually let Bob drive home”, they thought.

Over the next ten minutes, the virtual reality car threw problem after problem at Bob. In his drunken state he was sweating as he tried in vain to control the car through fog and rain. He didn’t hear the hoots of laughter next door in the bar as he swore loudly while swerving to avoid a stag, then a dustbin, then a small child in quick succession.

Eventually, as Bob hit a virtual tree, the simulator lurched sideways and threw him sideways into a bunch of duvets, right next to Dave (who still smelled of vodka) where he promptly fell into a confused sleep.

The landlord would have a stern word with Bob and Dave in the morning, when they were sober enough to listen to what he had to say. He was sure they’d pay attention after reviewing their driving performance on the simulator. In the bar, MTV flicked back on while the other customers supped up, and considered that driving home might not be worth the risk.