The Sziget-party in Delft

As promised, here’s the whole report of what happened last Friday night. But first, a short introduction. You’ll be seeing the name Dennis a lot. Dennis is the guy who invited me to the party. He lives in Delft, and I met him on the bus to Sziget. We exchanged e-mails, kept in touch and one thing led to another, so there I was, my first time in Delft, ready to go to a party. Which brings us, without further ado, to the story…

I told Dennis I’d meet him at the trainstation around 4pm, so that we could grab something to eat before we headed for the Triangel (Party-location). I ended up missing my train by one minute because I spent a little too long deciding on which book I’d buy to read on the train. Eventually I went with ‘The Broker’ by John Grisham. I arrived in Delft around 5pm, Dennis picked me up and we headed for his appartment.
We spent about half an hour talking about movies, compared my collection to his, and then he told me he had to get a birthdaygift for Roana, a friend of his, so we headed out. Our first stop was the Koornbeurs, a place below the Triangel, where basically most of Dennis’ friends hang out. We had our first beers, played some pinball, and then decided we were hungry. We went to a pizzeria called ‘Dennis Pizza’. Funny coincidence, that. After we were done (He had a Four Cheeses pizza, I had a shoarma one, 5 bucks each. And they were good, too! Unbelievable!) we went to get a present for his friend. We ended up at a Free Record Shop (Contrary to what the name states, the records are not free…) where I bought the 300 2-disc steelcase edition.
Then we went to a bar Dennis frequents, of which I forgot the name, and had another beer. A fruity one this time. I spilt some over my sleeve…the night was already much like Sziget, as we predicted. After we finished out beers we headed back over to the Koornbeurs, met up with Roana, and basically just talked to people, drank beer and generally had a good time.

Around iunno what time (Time sort of lost it’s tracks on me this evening…) we headed upstairs. When we arrived at the Triangel, there were like 5 other people there. We had another beer, talked a bit more, and all of a sudden it was midnight and Roana’s birthday. Naturally, we congratulated her, and then decided to go back upstairs, where there were more interesting people.
This is where the memories start getting blurred. We sat down at a table and I remember general conversation about STD’s, plus me making jokes about Dennis because he’s gay. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with that, he’s just the first gay dude I can crack jokes about without him getting mad at me. I wasn’t really sober at that time, so I helped myself to a big serving of gay-jokes. After a while it got boring and I started talking to a guy that frequents Tilburg, the city I’m from. Yet another while later we were joined by Moniek, which brings me to a small side-story.

I didn’t notice it at the time, but apparently, as soon as this girl joined us, Dennis was trying to get my attention away from her. I’m still not sure why, but he explained it to me the next day. Don’t really remember that either though. Anyways, I was talking to her, and since the alcohol was starting to catch up to me and I was eager to get to the party, I agreed to go upstairs to the Triangel with her. I finished my beer and was halfway across the bar when Dennis stopped me to ask me where I was going. Little did I know, he was actually holding me back so that I wouldn’t go with that girl. It succeeded, because when I’m drunk my attentionspan is zero, and as soon as I lost her out of my sight I went right back to hanging out with Dennis and a friend he told me he hadn’t seen in a while, so I had to tell her my Amsterdam story again. Which brings me to another side-story.

A short while ago I was reading, which I occasionally do when I’m bored, and came across this story. Of course, it cracked me up and I had to share it with someone, so I posted the link to Dennis. Ever since he read it he’s been telling it to everyone he could tell it to, and when I was in Delft myself, he kept telling me to tell the story to everyone. I didn’t mind it much, but in the end I think I must’ve told it about 7 times. Even yesterday he told me to tell it to his sister over MSN. It’s ok, it’s just too bad that it’s not my own story, that would’ve been more amusing. I’m an honest man though, everytime I told it, I mentioned that I wasn’t there and had just read it. Yep, no corrupt soul here.

So, back to the party. We were down in the Koornbeurs still (I think), when Dennis brought me my first dropshot of that evening. Dropshot is evil. It’s liquid liquorice, mixed with alcohol. I had it once before, years ago, but never again since that night. Dennis told me to do the shot, so naturally I downed it in one go. After a small while he brought me another one, and again I downed it smoothly, followed by a beer.
Eventually we decided to go back upstairs again, and when we got there the crowd had grown exponentially. We grabbed another beer and started dancing. By that time I was drunk enough to comfortably dance amongst a big crowd. This was also around the time I started pulling out my camera to take pictures of everyone I came across. Not that I knew any of them though. Some of them were Dennis’ friends, some of them were complete strangers. Most of them loved the camera though.

A few moments later (Later than what? I don’t even know anymore…) Dennis brought me another dropshot, and I decided to let him meet my favourite drink, being gin & juice. Yup, that’s my favourite. I can’t help it, it’s all Kevin’s fault, he introduced me to it a long time ago. Anyways, after I downed the dropshot and drank my gangster-mix, I started to notice that my stomach was rebelling. I told Dennis I didn’t feel to well and I was going outside to catch a breath of fresh air. Two minutes later I was hanging over a railing, puking into the moats of Delft. Dropshot turned out to be my kryptonite.
A few yards down the road, some guys were cheering me on, so I did what I do best, I made an ass of myself. I threw up the horns at them and cheered right back. They loved it. There was also this guy, who…I don’t know, we talked, and I went back inside and met up with Dennis, who asked me how I was doing. I told him I was fine fine and made him go buy another round of beers.

That’s all I can really remember. The rest is just fragments of the remainder of the evening. I remember going back downstairs after the Triangel closed down. I remember having more dropshots, ignoring it’s dangerous, kryptonian effects on me. I remember staggering doen the streets of Delft. I remember puking in Dennis’ toilet. That’s about it. The camera does remember, however, since we kept on using it.
Two videos presented itself when I looked back at the pictures we took, two videos that I don’t remember at all. There’s this one, which I shot myself, and this one, which was shot by Dennis. The first time I saw these things was last Sunday, two days after the party, when I charged my battery (It had gone dead near the end of the evening, since there aren’t any pictures of me puking. Dennis took some with his phone though, they’ll be up here soon enough.) and hooked it up to the TV. The further I skipped through the images, the less I seemed to remember. According to the timestamp on the last picture it was around 4:30 when we headed home. The next morning I asked Dennis how we got home, and he told me we took a cab. I have no recollection whatsoever about riding a cab, but according to my back transcript, I did yank some cash from an ATM to pay for it. He also told me I didn’t went to sleep untill 6:30, which means I’ve been puking for two hours before finally laying down and falling asleep. Or slipping into a coma, that’s probably a more accurate description.

So there you have it. My first night in Delft and I can’t remember half of it. I did have a good time though. If you’re interested, you can find all of the pictures right here.
Next time Dennis’ll be coming to Tilburg, which means we’re gonna party on my terms. One thing is for sure, there will be no more dropshot. I’ll punch anyone who offers it to me.



~ by freudianzombie on September 4, 2007.

One Response to “The Sziget-party in Delft”

  1. Hmm oke, k heb je misschien toch verneukt die avond!:P Maar ik mezelf dus ook gisteravond:S Kort samen gevat wou iemand mij eruit zuipen. Over t algemeen is dat moeilijk, maar 8 dropshots in 10 min is mij echt te veel. Ik heb thuis ook flink staan puken (waar k niks meer vanaf weet) en mn huisgenoot kon de volgende ochtend niet naar t toilet omdat ik niet bepaald goed meer kon mikken blijkbaar… T hele verhaal hoor je snel man! Maar leuk blogje is t iig geworden!



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