Please share your stories of great/awful mornings after the night before, staggering home with no shoes and a head full of regrets. There was nothing better at university than briskly strolling to morning lectures only to see men in vomit stained suits dejectedly stumbling home (well, it was probably better to be them, since you were going to lectures and they had just had a presumably great night).
I remember once heading home at some stupid time, probably about 5am when I was the only soul out and about, when a car pulled up alongside me and a swarthy gentlemen with a heavy accent asked me directions to somewhere not very far away. I told him where to go, and he made me repeat myself several times. He had a map open on the passenger seat and asked me to point it out on there. He then requested I get in and show him the way. I declined his offer, and he insisted again. Slightly delirious with tiredness and alcohol, I then sprinted across a road and down an alley before the man could become any creepier. SCARY.