Who Wears Short Shorts?

I saw a Buddhist monk this morning as i looked out of the office window. He had a rucksack on his back and seemed to be waiting for a bus. I sat there for a while imagining him wandering around Tesco's doing his weekly big shop or out in Reflex throwing some shapes to the theme from Baywatch. It was then that i remembered the time i went to a toga party at uni.

Ahhhh...Toga Parties. The staple theme for any student party during the 90's and early 00's. This particular party was very early on in my 2nd year. Myself and 'the gang' has all moved into a house and were enjoying the freedom you just don't get in uni halls (basically the ability to walk into anybody's bedroom whilst they were sleeping and draw on their face).

Now, to attend a Toga party you need two things. Firstly...a toga. This is very easily achieved with a white  bed sheet. You then wrap the bed sheet around your body. Simple. Or it would be if you hadn't insisted on only having orange bedsheets. As it turns out wrapping yourself up in an orange bed sheet doesn't make you look like a Greek or Roman. It makes you look like a knob. Or a Buddhist monk. (Not that i am saying Buddhist monks are knobs. Just that if you aren't a Buddhist monk and are going to a toga party dressed as one you look like a knob).

So that's the toga sorted the next thing you'll need is a pair of shorts. This is less about keeping you warm and more to do with the fact if you don't someone WILL steal your bed sheet and you will spend the rest of the night in your underwear. As it turns out i didn't own any shorts so I had to borrow some from Hobbsy. The baggiest pair of shorts you have ever seen. I looked like MC Hammer with half cast pants on.

So anyway. Shorts on and looking like I was fresh from a temple in Nepal we went to the party. It was largely uneventful and involved basically just drinking heavily and walking home.

Now. Please heed the following advice. If you should find yourself walking home from a party late at night with a group of friends DO NOT attempt to play leap frog over some bollards. ESPECIALLY avoid doing this if you happen to be wearing tremendously baggy shorts and dressed like a monk. It will not turn out good for you.

To be fair...the first three bollards were fine. I was over them like Colin Jackson over hurdles. then we reached Ethel Austins and things went pear shaped (cue slow motion imagery and Chariots of Fire music)

I started my run up, ready to leap the final bollard between me and my hero status that I would surely claim should i make it. I ran, my orange bed sheet billowing behind me. My hands hit the top of the bollard and my feet lifted off the ground as i threw myself forward. I was going to make it. Everyone was watching ready to cheer and whoop. Even the police in the car that was passing slowed down to witness this fantastic feat. I carried on through the air...

....I couldn't quite understand why i was laid on the floor. Everything seemed to have gone to plan. The run up. The launch. it was all perfect. There should be no reason as to why I had failed. Everyone was looking at me laughing. My friends. The police. Ethel Austin (had she been a person and not a charity shop).

I attempted to pick myself up off the floor but couldn't. I tried again but got halfway then fell to the floor again. I was confused. Maybe my bed sheet had got tangled around the bollard? I removed the bed sheet and tried again. It was then that I realised what had happened. As I looked down I saw that the bollard had somehow managed to rip through the front of my tremendously baggy shorts and out through the back leaving me attached to the bollard. I was stuck. The police continued slowly past and around the corner. Laughing at my misfortune, Chaz had decided to carry my bed sheet away from me knowing there was only one thing for me to do.

And that is how I ended up walking through Lancaster Town centre in just my Boxer Shorts in Autumn 2001.