Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Drunks Say the Darndest Things 4

Oh, it’s that time again? Well then, let’s get to it.

A quick note first, though, so that I may pat myself on the back: Over the past year I’ve made a point of doing a better job at recording quotes as they happen (not that I’ve been flawless at this)—or, at least, as the stories have randomly come to mind. As such, I have kept a running journal that by now is fairly full. I actually had to pare down the list when writing out this post. Who says I’m a useless drunk? Ha! I’m a useful drunk!

  • One Sunday last June, TD was scheduled to be guest-bartending at her favorite South Side watering hole, the Birmingham Bridge Tavern. When I arrived, however, I found her on the customer side of the bar, along with a grand total of six other people—four of whom were Jay Swag, Dupa, Tennessee, and Dupa’s roommate. And everyone, especially the little would-be bartender, was crushed. When we decided to relocate to Rumshakers, TD squeezed into the backseat of my two-door coupe, which apparently was in need of some detailing. From behind me I heard her scoff, "Your backseat is dusty! Don't you ever have sex back here?!"

  • TK booked a hotel room the night of his going away party in July, since the lease on his apartment had ended the day before that. This only added to his one-night-in-town-break-out-or-be-clowned—“carpe diem”, for those untrained in 90’s hip-hop—sort of mood. At one point in the night, he and I stood in Sammy’s having the following conversation:

    TK: “I'm taking a bath tonight.”
    Me: *pause* “I've never heard a drunk person say that.”
    TK: “Well, it's the Westin. I'll probably masturbate in a pillow case!”

  • Late on St. Patty’s Day—well, after 4 p.m.; keep in mind, we started around 9 o’clock that morning—in 2010, I was at Rumshakers with a cast of characters. Belle was one of said characters, as was a tall, brunette friend of hers. At some point I turned from a conversation with others to find Belle’s friend with a mouthful of Polish tongue. With a chuckle I brought this display to our friends’ collective attention. Dupa had become the day’s drunk slut, making out with random girls at the bar.

    A little later he pulled himself away from his disappointing public display to wander off elsewhere in the establishment. I engaged in some small talk with Belle’s friend; but, as I was easing into a brownout, I cannot say with any certainty just what we talked about. What I can say with certainty, unfortunately, is that not long thereafter she had a mouthful of half-Black-half-amazing tongue. Realizing I had become what I had just clowned Dupa for being, I shot off a text to him: “Why am I cleaning up your mess?”

  • I caught up with TJ, Prince of Ligonier, and others for a Friday happy hour at Tilted Kilt to celebrate Mrs. Prince’s birthday last June. Her good friend, Danielle, was dutifully by her side in the race to go from “sober” to “hammered”. After it was pointed out that she had misread a menu item, Danielle shook her head and picked up her glass of green cocktail, resigning, "I'm going to drink until it makes sense."

  • During a random email conversation with Dupa one workday this past summer, he bemoaned the effects of his recent boozing. And I, in return, was full of sympathy.

    Dupa: “Four Loko is ruining my insides.”
    Me: “That’s kind of like accusing Hitler of ruining Hell.”

  • Our 2011 Furry Safari was our best yet, comprising a full day of drunken revelry and plush costume pageantry. The day’s festive spirit may have been best vocalized by TK (who very nearly made me spit Corona all over Tonic’s sidewalk seating area with this comment, which came forth completely unprovoked and without warning): “I'd like to get a handjob from someone wearing a stuffed animal.”

  • On Baby Joey’s birthday, Esq, Tank, and I joined him for some drinks at Mario’s in the South Side. Esq’s upcoming nuptials were never far from his mind, and this showed during a discussion about some of the more scandalous moments of our pasts. After taking a long pause, Esq’s face suddenly dropped, and he exclaimed, “Oh god—the next married woman I bang will be my own wife!”

  • Steph attended the Steelers’ season opener in Baltimore; and, unlike me, she was not pleased with the outcome. Piling onto her misery the next morning was a massive hangover that had resulted from a full Sunday of heavy drinking and tailgating. When I asked if she had made it home to Queens yet, she texted back, “I’m still on a bus. I need a new soul right now.”

  • With plans to go to a friend’s surprise birthday party on the upcoming Saturday night, Hurley and I texted back and forth to nail down the final details one day in June.

    Hurley: “You bringing anything outside of your good looks and charm?”
    Me: “Nope. I figure that alone is more than most women can handle.”

  • The Sunday morning after Brewski Festival 2011—just like the morning after every previous Brewski Fest—was painful. Dupa and I decompressed in my car as we buzzed through the Western PA backwoods on our way to his parents’ house for a cookout. As I went about the standard day-after mental and emotional inventory check, I mentioned my failure to make use of the bottle of 5-Hour ENERGY that I had brought with me for Saturday’s fun. After a moment of quiet contemplation, Dupa proclaimed, "One of those and a Viagra, and I'd kill a bitch!"