How to break a sink in three pieces without breaking the bottle, as described by Jamie Martin
I can be, to put it mildly, what has been described as a “rowdy drunk”. The summer I turned 18 there was a string of house parties in which, through no fault of my own, a few things were broken. These things were mostly trivial; lamps, paintings, washing machines, etc.
My friend’s girlfriend of the day was due to turn eighteen and so she threw a party, as you do. I was invited, but only under the strict terms that I was not to break anything. My friend wanted to make a good impression on the parents – the last thing he needed was his drunk mates tearing the place up. So, I decided to take it easy and have a nice relaxing night. Just chill out and have a few beers. The night got off to a great start. We met the parents who were very friendly, the cousins, the sisters, the friends. We helped ourselves to some food and drinks. I could feel my friend’s cold gaze watching my every move, waiting for any sign of trouble. I excused myself at one point, as I needed to use the bathroom and slipped upstairs.
I was at that point where you walk into the toilet, smiling to yourself because you’re having a great night. I placed my bottle of beer on the glass shelf above the sink and proceeded to urinate. Halfway through pissing I heard an almighty crash, and turned around to see the sink in three massive pieces on the ground. Within maybe five seconds (which to this day I still find very strange considering I was in the upstairs toilet and everyone else was downstairs), my friend was through the door. “What the fuck have you done!” he screamed. He was swiftly followed by the father of the birthday girl, the mother, the aunty, the cousins, and the rest of the party. I hadn’t had a chance to put my dick away yet.
There comes a time in every man’s life where he has to make a choice: he has to nut up or shut up. This was not one of those times. I did what any self respecting man would do and began sobbing drunkenly, trying to explain that it was the glass shelf, or it was the bottle… It was anything but me.
What made the whole thing very curious was that although the bathroom sink was smashed to pieces, the bottle lay on the ground completely intact. Needless to say, this made my story questionable to the gathering jury. My defence went something like this: “I’m so so sorry, man – seriously, I’ll pay for it”.
The dad, who was very cool about the whole thing took one look at my scuffed leather jacket and replied, “With what?”