The seven drunk guy personas

As we’ve already reported, girls turn into seven kinds of crazy when they drink. But it turns out guys aren’t any better.

Let us introduce to you the seven Mr Hydes guys transform into after one too many jars.

Mr Social

Mr Social knows no social boundaries.

“No way! Two minutes guys, I’ll be right back – just seen my old mate from high school.” Yup, that’s the last you’ll be seeing of that guy.

A friend to everyone, his memory is increased a thousand-fold by four pints of beer and a jaegerbomb. Flitting from group to group handing out hugs and performing complex handshakes, this guy is the ultimate social butterfly.

Once he’s gone, he’s gone, so don’t waste valuable drinking time trying to find him. It’s like trying to find a broken pencil in a broken pencil factory: completely pointless.

Mr Mange Tout

Be wary for your fingers when feeding this one.

While his name is fancy and French, his appetite is not. Announcing to the table after a single pint “Mate, I’m fucking starving” Mr Mange Tout will not stop pestering the group until you’ve headed out for chips and cheese, a kebab, a pizza, and a stop-off at McDonald’s.

He doesn’t care where the munch comes from, and he doesn’t care who’s standing in his way; if you see Mr Mange Tout heading towards you make room, because this guy isn’t stopping for anything that’s not been deep-fried or battered.

Once sated, this monstrous beast will get straight back on the booze – just pray you’re not his flatmate. That much grease aint pretty going in, but it’s a whole lot worse coming out…

Mr Fists

There is no way of spotting Mr Fists before you go out. Much like Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, or Bruce Banner, there’s no way of knowing that beneath the unassuming exterior beats the heart of a man just aching for an excuse to punch someone in the face. Anyone.On any pretence.

After two pints, Mr Fists reckons he’s turned into Neo from The Matrix. “I know kung fu,” he slurs, “Watch.” You watch as he gets into a fight, and then run over to stop your erstwhile friend getting his head pounded into the ground by the 6-foot-tall lovechild of a gorilla and a brick wall. Keep away from sharp objects.

Mr Sleaze

“Cum into my office…”

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He’s here for one reason: to get laid. His mantras are many and creepy: “If there’s grass on the field/any hole’s a goal.”

Unsurprisingly, he’s getting nowhere fast, but that’s not stopping him. Like a dog frantically humping the leg of a couch, oblivious to the growing disgust around him, he’s not going to stop until something cold and wet is dumped over him.

You’re going to have to step in at some point and explain that women are, in fact, people: an explanation that’s going to take a long time and veer into some really weird places. Probably best to have another drink and pretend you don’t know him.

Mr Preacher

“Im talking to you!”

Mr Preacher has an opinion. About what? About everything. Politics, fashion, history, philosophy, religion, economics…these are just a few of his areas of expertise. The only thing he likes more than arguing is the sound of his own voice, so get used to hearing nothing but the tones of your pontificating pal.

The worst thing is he knows a little bit about everything, so it gets really hard to disagree with him – but as he drinks more, his conclusions are getting more and more outrageous until you’re nodding along to “…and that’s why we should paint elephants pink. It’s logical, really, given the historical…”

There’s only one cure for Mr Preacher. A nightclub with music so loud you can’t hear yourself think…let alone him.

Mr Sleepy

Even pre is sometimes a bit much for this serial napper.

Mr Sleepy has an almost supernatural ability to kip anywhere, anytime. After five or six pints, this guy reverts to childhood and needs to take a nap. But he’s not waiting until he gets home: this guy is a dynamic napper.

Wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, there’s always time for forty winks. If you’ve lost one of your mates and you know he’s a Mr Sleepy, see if you can find him in a corner of the club, under a table, or maybe resting his head gently on the toilet bowl. However, if he escaped from the joint before Morpheus took his toll, then the best places to look for him are doorways.

Unfortunately, most of those are now occupied by female Hunters with their prey or drunken wastrels who just couldn’t make it home to their own bathroom. Search quickly!

Mr One-More-Drink

Mr One More Drink is a force to be reckoned with.

It’s 3am. The clubs are closing, and the bouncers are cracking their knuckles in the special way bouncers do. It’s time to head home, and your stomach is growling – you know there was some pizza leftover from dinner, and your significant other is going to be warm and welcoming (you hope).

And then: “Lads! Lads. One more drink. Just one more drink in the casino. Come on lads. Lads. LADS.” Wearily you accept. Just one more drink, you think to yourself. Next thing you know, it’s 6am and you can see the sun rising.

Mr One-More-Drink has the magical ability to make every drink “just one more”. And as you try to get your legs to support you home, you hear him say “Lads. Lads! Lads. One more drink. Just one more drink, at mine. It’s on the way back. Come on lads. Lads. LADS.”