Yeuch. Remembering a friend's twenty-first where she thought it'd be fun to go to The Boat, a floating nightclub of extreme unpleasantness where your body is clearly fair game because hey, if you didn't want men to grope your thighs on the stairs why would you have thighs? That night did enable me to perfect an inconspicuous shin-kick, though, so it was not wasted.

Obviously I have no sense of humour.