I think my grandmother once told me that. Then again, she was always so drunk you couldn’t really understand her.
Last night I made my usual Tuesday Night trip to the Pub for Video Request Night. I had my Obligatory Diet Cokes and was bored an hour after realising they moved Request Night to Wednesday. As I’m walking out the door I see a bar-friend of mine, Randy, who I haven’t seen out in a couple of months. Randy is a music geek like myself, so we always have fun talking about whatever video is on the screen.. who they are, who origianlly did the song, what we were doing the first time we heard it, stuff like that. Since I had company I decided to get screwdriver (1) drink. As I finish my cocktail Randy suggests we go to 80’s Night at Lafittes. As it’s only 9:30 and I didn’t feel like riding home just yet, I agree.
We get to Lafittes and he buys me a Double Kettle One Screwdriver (hereafter refered to as a DKOS.) I finish this, and he buys me another.
Who am I to not follow dear old grandmother’s advice?
After this second DKOS the bartender asks us if we want a shot.
Randy says yes.
It’s basically a concentrated Cosmopolitan, and it was much more than a shot. It was like, half the damn cup.
After I do the shot, there is still half a DKOS in my cup and randy is almost done with his. Randy then says “Bartender. I want something that is going to fuck me up.”
The bartender makes us a Double Tequila Sunrise (hereafter referered to as the kiss of death.)
We drink the kiss of death.
Randy procedes to buy me another fucking DKOS.
It’s like, midnight now, and I’m pretty much toast at this point so I get a diet coke and a water to try to sober up. Oh, and another DKOS. The bartender then asks if we want to try a drink he just made up. I’m not sure what it was, but there was a lot of it. This drink will hereafter be referered to as The Last Thing I Remember.
Next thing I know, Randy is waking me up at the bar, rolling me into a cab and shouting my address.
The entire cab ride home I am repeating to myself “Don’t pass out, don’t throw up. Don’t pass out, don’t throw up.”
I get home safely 5 minutes later. The cab driver giggles as I hand him whatever money is in my pocket ($30 for a $6 fare?) and I stumble to the curb and throw up in my front yard.
Ohmyfuckinggawd it’s like I was in highschool again. Except I didn’t drink in highschool.
In my defense I had the equivilent of 13 drinks and two shots in about 4.5 hours. OMG that’s fucking stupid once I see that in writing. What was I thinking???