A night of partying gone wrong

A night of clubbing usually spells a great time and great memories— but sometimes, they turn into clubbing horror stories.

Here are just a few of them.

My buddies and I went clubbing for a birthday celebration.

The birthday boy was interested in one of the girls that he made eye contact with, so we decided to hook him up.

The whole night we tried to help our friend make contact with her, but she would slip into the dance floor and disappear. When we finally had a clear view of her, we approached and tapped her on the shoulder.

As she turned and said ‘hello’, we were all stunned into silence. Her voice was deeper and manlier than all of ours!

We beat a hasty retreat right after that and ended our night of partying.

I’d just gotten out of a toxic relationship at the time. So when a friend who was interested in me asked if I wanted to go clubbing with him, I agreed. I was raring to party hard, like a strong, independent, young woman can.

We arrived at Zouk and, lo and behold, I see my ex-boyfriend with his group of friends.

I was so preoccupied with the awkwardness between my ex and I that I forget to enjoy myself at the club.

Getting flustered, I did the only thing I knew how to do — head to the bar and drink it dry. I drank until I couldn’t see straight and realised that I had to call a cab to get home. On the way back, my driver had to stop in the middle of the expressway so that I could puke my guts out.

If you thought that was the end, well, so did I.

When I got to my void deck, I couldn’t climb up the stairs. So I sat on the very first step, still puking. Then I drunk called both my ex and my friend, asking them to come pick me up, and of course, they both ignored me.

In the end, it was my younger sister who dragged me up the stairs to my house, and helped me clean up my vomit-caked dress and hair.

When I first started partying, I decided that I really wanted to experience being drunk for the first time. So when my friend invited me to his 21^st birthday party at a hotel and said that there would be alcohol, I was all in.

I had about eight to 10 shots before I finally passed out, and all before midnight.

The next morning, I woke up in a wheelchair, in a room full of sleeping people. My friends had to fill me in; because I’d passed out quite far out in the hallway, it took three guys to haul me into a wheelchair before pushing me back to the hotel room.

I would say I’m quite an experienced clubber. I’ve seen a lot, including friends who like to document their descent into drunken stupor through their various social media accounts.

Once, my friend drank so much that while she was trying to Snapchat her experience at the club, she fell face flat on the floor. She was so tipsy, she couldn’t stand up by herself and looked like she was on the verge of passing out.

I got my other friends to send her home because I knew she would definitely not be able to survive the rest of the night.