I planned to see the millennium in with a group of friends in London. Me and a couple of pals got the train down and started drinking on the way. Met up at a friends flat, more drinks we planned to head out and see the fireworks at midnight it was raining but we thought fuck it, we'd see them, then head to a club and dance the night the night away. We left the flat and started walking along Mile End road but it didn't quite work out like that. One of the guys I traveled down with peaked far too soon and wasn't in a good way. As midnight hit, the dawn of the new millennium, he was leaning over a metal gate puking his guts up. This had been going on for sometime, we were all hopeful that we'd make it to somewhere to see the fireworks but nope that didn't happen, we heard the bangs overhead but couldn't see anything.

After my friend has finished his mighty chunder, he wants to get something to eat. The nearest place that's open is an all night petrol station but the doors are locked so we have to ask the attendant through the kiosk glass hatch our food order. He's like what do you want, we are pissed and don't really know, he can't be arsed to tell us every single item he has so we get some rank flavoured crisps, chocolate bars and some chilled ginsters pasties. My friend eagerly scoffs them down but unsurprisingly the crappy food doesn't agree with him and he ends up puking up again. We were now pretty soaked, cold and had begun to sober up. We never made it to the club and that is how I saw in the year 2000.