The title of this blog is an inside joke that is not related to anyone I am writing about here, but well, I just had to.
My first time drinking took place at a camp friend's sweet sixteen. My fifteen year old friend (and accomplice), Brooke, had swiped us some alcohol for the big night. I drank a shot of vodka. No one prepared me for the way that shot would burn in my throat, or told me that chasing a shot down with some type of non-alcoholic beverage would have been helpful.
By my senior year of high school, I was chugging whisky in the back of boys' cars. (Bad ass McGee). And now, at the ripe old age of twenty-six, I have been drinking for the better part of the decade. For the exception of my 24th birthday (where I clung to walls, and Asians in electric blue wigs), most of my friends tell me that they really can't tell when I'm drunk. (Translation: I have the sober personality of a drunk person). The only differences in my personality while drunk, is that I have the tendency to become a bit more forward (with the gentlemen), tend to retell stories that have already been told, (Oh wait, I do that soberly too), and I continuously text my friends who are not at the same bar as me, telling them how good the music is where I am.
I have never needed alcohol to have a good time. As long as I have my friends, and some mid 90's dance music, I'll have fun just about anywhere. As far as drinking goes, I always thought that I could keep up with the best of them--bring it on bitches! That is...until this past Saturday night; had it not been me making my own drinks, I would have sworn that I had been roofied.
Saturday night, I went to Providence, Rhode Island to visit some of my most favorite men from college. (Did you guys like that? I just called you men). Jimmy, Brent, Andy and Corey, just some of my college besties. The purpose of this blog is mostly meant as an apology to these boys, (that I love) because I literally don't know what happened to me. And well, they don't either. They expected to spend the night with their human friend, from New York City, Lauren Fisher. Instead, they got an intoxicated mess in heels.
After a six hour drive, (it usually only takes three hours), I could not wait to get my night started. The only problem was, besides for my four bowls of frosted flakes in the morning, and four sushi rolls and a banana (eaten at the boys' place), I did not have anything to eat all day. (An aside: This is extremely rare for me. My sweets intake alone, could be my entire caloric consumption for the day). With little food in my stomach, my downward spiral would soon begin. At the boys, I had just two drinks, and is all that I had for the duration of the night). While sipping slowly, we reminisced about college, and took a poll of who was a worse driver, Andy or me. (As it turns out, Andy was voted worse than me, but everyone would rather be in a car with Andy. Due to my reckless speeding, survival rate in Andy's car would be much higher).
After my two drinks, our night would begin. Unfortunately, I can't tell you much about it; except for this: My knees are completely bruised, scraped and cut, because YES, I fell down that many times. I was THAT girl. Apparently, we all went out for a meal after being out, I remember nothing of this meal. I was later told that I spent most of the time in the bathroom. (Yes, trying to pull my own trigger). Additionally, I was also told the following day that I walked into the wrong bathroom, twice.
I woke up the next morning and felt pretty embarrassed about the previous night's events. Let me just say this, it takes A LOT to really embarrass me, but it can be done. My friends told me not to worry, after all I was the same girl who, five years earlier, had passed out on their front lawn, in the rain, at two am. So, to Jimmy, Corey, Brent and Andy; I will say this: Thank you for taking care of me, for listening to me repeat myself about how much I had not eaten all night, for listening to my pooping trick (I'm sure you didn't want to hear that once, let alone six times), for unknowingly lending me your hairbrush, and for a delightful egg sandwich in the morning. Here's to the next time that we are all together, a human, I will be!
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