The Orthopaedic Shoe

As I saw it I had 3 options of how to get out of my current situation (at a bar with a potential 'loose cannon' who had decided I was his best friend). I could wait for him to go to the toilet and do a runner (risky in-case I saw him again and had to explain), I could make my excuses and leave (difficult given the constant re-assurances he wanted that I was 'up for drinking'). Or I could finish his night off with an Orthopaedic shoe.

An Orthopaedic Shoe is a dangerous cocktail. It's just J&B Rare and Cointreau but after a few beers i'ts unlikely you'll remember much after one. I ordered a 'pair' for Jay. I gave him 20 minutes. He lasted 15.
Assurances of 'I can drink anything Dave I am an Australian' fell on deaf ears as I watched him neck the pair of shoes. Soon he started dropping his phone, then his tobacco, then his phone again, then his tobacco. The swaying on the stool became more exaggerrated and I knew he was in no state to accompany me into town.

As soon as the drinks were drunk the stories started. He was missing the boat. There were too many people around. He had been locked up for manslaughter, killed a bouncer outside a nightclub by chopping him in the throat. He gave me a few examples of how to kill someone and one example of a particuarly painful pressure point somewhere around my neck had me agreeing and believing his stories of being an expert in martial arts. Of course this was short lived, after many apologies with letting me down Jay explained how 'Sorry mate, I think I'd just better go to bed now Dave, Ive had enough'. I assured him it was ok. I made arrangements to meet the Scottish girl the following evening and promptly left to hunt out the next bar before closing time.