Met Chris for breakfast. He was fairly messed up - a little coffee helped. I can really get used to posh leisurely breakfasts. We got up the mountain fairly late and found good conditions up there. I was finding the skiing really easy so decided to go off-piste with Jim for a bit but I soon was down a ski and face down.
Bri and Kim were about too, at the top of every ride up in the lift we could see people doing jumps and whatnot. One time going up the lift we saw the worst accident, but it was just a guy coming down the piste pretty normally. I noticed that he seemed to be heading into the plastic barrier at the side but looked in control. But he just didn't turn and ended up somersaulting the barrier in a nasty way. Coming down, we asked if he was ok and went to tell the people on the lift to send him help. The guy said that he had lost control and could barely walk. It was so strange how he looked in control at the time though. That day we saw so many accidents - probably about ten people whose day (at least) up the slopes were cut short. Probably just the slightly funny weather.
At the end of the day, I bought us lots of stuff for pasta. I showered and made some fire while Jim went to work. Chris came round and we had a beer. I laughed very hard at the new tan lines on his face. I made dinner just as Jim came home and he stuck Top Gear on. I had to go pretty much immediately to meet Loren so we left Jim to it which felt pretty mean as he had just been at work.
So Chris and I started with a couple with Loren, who was once again amazingly nice and entirely weird to see. She insisted that I'd probably be back in a month anyway and it was a strange goodbye. Jim showed up and we went to quite a nice little bar to drink bad drinks. I never thought I would veer as back into that territory as to drink a Jaegerbomb, or in fact a lot of them, or to become comfortable with it. Isn't Jaegermeister for people who think that Jaegermeister is incredibly cool? Anyway, we stood in the freezing cold and chatted - great to spend some final time with Jim - and we had cheap beer and occasionally downed one of these weird things. By this time, Chris was already showing signs of suffering.
We headed to the bar where there is the weekly open mic. The people playing were all very good but playing incredibly bad songs - not sure if this made it more or less impressive. Bri did a few songs and was great, despite the songs being of the calibre of Teenage Dirtbag, Lots of people I had met over the month had shown up - I'm not saying this was anything to do with me - but it did all come together for a brief while. Gin suddenly came into fashion, Chris developed a liking for expensive gin on behalf of all of us.
Roughly around this point Jim got kicked out despite being most likely the most sobre person in the bar. He did also have the best beard and said that one of the barmaids in there had something against him because he is 'too confident'. So I said goodbye to everyone and smuggled Jim his pint out in my coatsleeves. It was around this point that I uttered the immortal words - 'what can we do to get Chris more ******'.
We went to a bar with a rodeo thing and left because it was crap then headed to a comparitively expensive cocktail place where a friend of Jim's worked. I think Chris bought, but it's foggy. The girl who new Jim went to UKC but couldn't remember what college she was in. Impressive.
Back home via Fergburger, where Jim insisted on buying the biggest and worsest Ferg. What a good night. We went home and I drank all the water I could find in the tap to head off almost certain disaster the following morning.
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