Booze and chicks don’t mix.
The three or four bottles of vodka and rum that had been ordered for our table were dispensed of in fairly rapid fashion, as were my comprehension and vision. Hello, rolling blackouts. I don’t really remember leaving, or the trip back to NGF’s, though I do vaguely remember standing in her apartment as I sloppily devoured the leftover hors d'oeuvres that had been prepared for the pregame party. I hazily remember Dupa casually saying, “I’m gonna take my pants off”; but I don’t recall trying to tempt her engaged roommate into a makeout session, which NGF told me about on Sunday. (Apparently her roommate’s fiancé now wants me dead. *shrug* Personally, I think he should thank me. If I did test her drunken faithfulness, then she obviously passed, because nothing happened between us. Why be mad at a guy for giving you renewed confidence in your bride-to-be?)
Dupa undid his belt, pulled down his pants and underwear, and laid facedown on the living room floor. It was hilarious, innocent fun, and Nate and I laughed. NGF, not so much. Alcohol + estrogen = KABOOM. She flipped, screaming at all of us, even threatening to call the police about the situation. (Can you picture that conversation with the 9-1-1 operator? “Hello? I need the police! There’s a naked man on my floor and everyone's laughing! Yes, he’s breathing. No, no blood. Of course I know him—we’ve been drinking together all night! *click* Hello? Hello??”) I walked out of the apartment chuckling almost as hard at her irrational anger as the image of a blacked-out and naked-from-the-waist-down Dupa starfished on the living room floor.
Earlier this morning I was talking with Dupa on instant messenger, and the subject of Saturday night came up.
D.E.F.I. (10:32:14 AM): [NGF] said she threatened to call the cops on you...lol...
Dupa (10:34:52 AM): ha thats news to me, for being naked?
D.E.F.I. (10:34:58 AM): yeah
Dupa (10:35:07 AM): who she gonna call the sexy police? cuz thats what that was