Lost Weekend (and the Ocean City Fumble)

Things didn’t quite go according to plan.

Last Friday I was supposed to travel to Washington, D.C. to take part in the annual brain-marinating that is otherwise known as “Chief’s birthday.” A rogue pack of viruses had different designs, however, and instead I spent most of the week on my couch half-dead, coughing and wheezing. My friends set sail on Friday without me, and my only taste of the fun was a slurred, rambling, incoherent 12:30 a.m. voicemail, which started with Kim (Chief’s fiancée) saying, “Remembrur when you came down here lash year, and you sthrew up in that cab? *pause* That was classy!” This was followed by Chief and my friend Finn getting on the phone to say that Kim wanted to have phone sex with me, then calling me an impolite name, and hanging up. My friends are gems, ain’t they?

As a result, cash that had been earmarked for the trip is still sitting in my bank account, and my need to make a grandiose fool of myself has not been properly satiated. These wrongs must be righted immediately, lest someone mistake me for being responsible. Or mature. *shivers*

Friday looks like it could be promising. A friend of mine will be appearing on Wheel of Fortune, and has invited some of us to watch the episode at her father’s bar. Start my Friday night by going to a bar at 7 p.m.? Yes, please. I only hope that I remember that her parents are in attendance, and don’t shout anything like “Gee, your breasts look great on TV!” My friend Bill has said that he intends to be around this weekend as well, and he’s always handy at tracking down a good time. So hopefully Saturday I’ll have a hangover and a new great story for On the Rocks.

In the meanwhile, I’ll open up my archives once more to leave you with a quick example of what I am capable of when incapable of much:

In 2003, some friends and I took a weeklong trip to Ocean City, MD, that has become a treasured piece of our sacred lore. That vacation was to our legacy in the pantheons of booze what Tootie was to “The Facts of Life”: the show would’ve gone on without her, but it just wouldn’t have had the same flavor. So many stories came out of those 8 days that I did a special write-up/chronicle of the adventures, and a year later I gave copies to all those who partook.

The first night that we were there, we visited a fantastic bar called “Scandals.” [Note: Scandals is no longer there, having gone under sometime in 2004 or 2005; I light prayer candles in remembrance every August.] Shortly after arriving, I was introduced to two things of wonder: (1.) a beautiful, brunette bartender named Juli, and (2.) shots of Incredible Hulk. Apparently, when you mix Hennessey and Hypnotiq, the shot appears green under a black light. And when you drink it, you feel like your body itself is a black light. You get really warm, your eyes flicker a little, and everyone around you looks really weird.

To say that this shot damaged me would be putting it mildly. Nevertheless, when we returned to Scandals a few days later, on “Dollar Anything” night, my friend Dupa and I had a brainstorm: “Let’s order Hulks by the glassful.” Yes, let’s.

Two hours later we decided (and by “we,” I mean the other nine people in our group—Dupa and I were no longer qualified to make any decisions that night) to head to another bar. We had spent our entire Scandals visit at the bar in the back; on our way out, we passed the bar near the front, where Juli worked. When she saw me, she waved me over to her and the following conversation took place:

Juli: [frowning] “Are you leaving already?”
Me: “Yeah.”
Juli: “How come you didn’t come over here to see me?”
Me: “Well, we all went to the bar back there & shnid sdd fpp.”
Juli: [laughing] “Okay, just go.”

Yes, that is all typed correctly; I actually spoke everything as it appears. I suffered, it seems, a momentary lapse in my ability to form words. I stumbled away and caught up with my friends as they headed to the parking lot, my mind distracted by whatever they were saying at the moment. The reality of what had just happened, and of the chance that I had blown, didn’t really sink in until a week or so later, after the trip was only fond memories.

I may not always sweep them off their feet, but at least I leave them with a smile on their face.