Back when I was at Glasgow Uni, watched the opening game of Italia 90 in the QM. Only intended staying for a couple but then Cameroon won so decided to stay for a few more, which then became a few more, on an empty stomach.
Phoned my dad to say I was getting the half 10 train and he said he'd pick me up at Killie. I recall leaving the QM then nothing til I came to, walking unfamiliar dark streets. Checked my watch, 1:30am!
"Aw naw I've missed my train!!!"
I found myself walking into a truckers' overnight stop, some of the cabs looked inviting, but I promptly got a torch shone in my face by a night watchman "'ere, bugger off!" he said.
I turned and headed back in the opposite direction thinking if I could get my bearings I could head for the West End and find one of my coursemate's flats. I then spotted a British Rail sign over a building I didn't recognise. "It must be the back of Queen St" I thought.
I headed under a bridge to the front door of the station. A policeman was waiting there and asked me in an English accent "Are you feeling better after your walk?". This confused me even more.
"Is this Glasgow Queen St?"
"No, lad it's Carlisle. Don't you remember? We had to carry you off the train! Where are you going?"
"Kilmarnock".
"Right let's see..... yeah your next train is a 6:40am".
Cue night spent between the station bogs and a bench (fortunately it was June). And a phone call home saying "Dad, you're not going to believe this..." Turned out I was on the train he was waiting for at Killie. I just didn't get off it.
I'd won a few quid on the Derby that week, which was blown on the fare back to Ayrshire. When I got off the platform back home my old primary teacher was getting on to go shopping in Glasgow. She just looked at me as if to say "what has happened to him?"...