Did I ever tell you about the time Kris lost the keys to our flat after a bar crawl? It was the second monday of our being in Newcastle and my friend Patrick who I knew from back home but who I'd originally met in Europe, invited us on a golfers themed bar crawl. Everyone had a score sheet and you had a type of drink to order from each bar, you had to do it in the par amount of gulps blah blah everyone gets really smashed we get our beer bongs confiscated by some doormen. At various points in the night Paddy, the leader, blew an airhorn which was the signal to hit the floor. It really was an awesome night, but me and Kris decided to ditch about 12.30. Really drunk we make it back to flat...Kris tells me, "I'm really really sorry baby, but i've lost the keys" I flipped out, I cried, I threw his stuff down the street. He punched a metal sign, got mad cos I was still crying so I slapped him (only cos I was so drunk and emotional). And in the end, after re-tracing our steps and finding nothing, we had to get a taxi about 20 miles out of town to a motel, then 5 miles back for an ATM and back again, spend the night (it was disgusting) and then go back and tell our landlord, who is unbelievably stupid, the next morning. He said he didn't have a spare set but gve us 15 random keys to try (including for the flat downstairs which someone lives in, go figure. Not suprisingly none of them worked. So we had to break into the building because It was raining and I only had some short shorts on and a tee. And call a locksmith who didn't believe it was our flat. He called our landlord and got us in, chanaged the lock and charged us £70. So now I'm always in charge of the keys.