So I'm crashing and burning in a big way. The sad thing is I know it. And even worse, she knows it too. It's the social equivalent of running out of fuel at 30,000 feet in a plane with stall protection - all you've got to look forward to is a very public plummet into the prestressed cement of the social pavement very far below. Later, when I'm sober, I pick through the smoking remains of my memories in search of the mental black box to find out exactly what the hell happened.
Voices seem a little blurred and mixed up.
Then I hear it, the first slight faux pas, barely noticed by those around me, but equipped as I am with sensitive hindsight, I know a danger sound when I hear it. All hell's broken loose on the flight deck and the first sound of impact can be heard as I take a knee to the balls. More impacts can be heard, groin a couple of times and face at least once, the recording loses some of it's quality here.