So last night I got truly trashed for the first time ever in my life. I didn’t plan on it happening but it did. There were two previous incidents where alcohol got to me, but I was never really buzzing or trashed…
The first time happened on a Friday night back on Midvale when i was still living with Scott, Nishant and Donald. Steve, Richard, and… uh… some guy who’s name escapes me at the moment, came up from Irvine and they were drinking Vodka on the roof. Richard more or less bet me I couldn’t/wouldn’t be able to down any vodka so… of course, I drank about a quarter glass from a tumbler in one quick gulp. I remember it just tasted nasty. Later, I went to bed and I couldn’t stop shivering, Richard thought he had given me alcohol poisoning (how sad, not even a full glass). The next morning I felt fine but it was very surreal. Since then, and well before then, I never and don’t really drink all that much.
The second incident involving alcohol at our company Christmas party in December of 2005. My co-workers were all drinking as usual and heavily since it was a company paid for event. With a whole open bar at my disposal, I felt a little part of me being Chinese and thinking “It’s a waste if you don’t drink anything…” So I asked my co-worker Phaddy what would be a good drink that’s not too gross tasting and not too heavy (Phaddy’s not his real name, that’s just what I call him because he’s… uh… fat). He recommended a Whiskey Sour. Now I remind you all, i don’t drink and I know nothing about alcohol. It sounded good, so I tried it and it was gross. I was made fun of, so i downed the whole thing. I then proceeded to take a 30 minute nap at a table in the corner and was fine to drive home by the evening’s end. It was mildly embarrassing to fall asleep after only a single drink, but everyone else was so hammered no one really noticed and my co-worker Jon falling out of his seat and getting stitches above his eye really helps to remove any limelight I would have been suffering under. I hate Whiskey now though.
So last night was Nicole and Bruce’s wedding. I never drink. I never drink. The waiter came with champagne. i never drink. I never drink. It tasted a bit sweet, not too bad, so I told him to fill me up. I never drink. I never drink. Our table gives a toast, so I drink a gulp or two. People start singing, we toast again. I drink some more. Gimpy’s a bit flushed. Frances is pink. I’m still white. I drink a other glass (because although I never drink, this is pretty fun). About glass 2 or 3, I walk over to the next table and my raccoon eyes are showing. Chuckie toasts me so I take Bryan’s glass and down it. I go to the head table, they toast me there, so I down Kevin’s glass. I go back to my table and down another glass. At this point, I know I’ve had way more than a novice like me can or should handle, but oh well. I got a good buzz going. Well, after dinner is served, I pretty much pass out at my table and even though my body is all retarded, my mind is still awake. I hear the people around me and someone tapping me on the back or touching me in places they shouldn’t (so I assume those hands would either belong to Chuckie, Tommy, or Booger… all pervs). Through my closed eye lids, I can see flashes of light. Around 11, Kevin gets Tony to help drag me to my car and he drives us home. I tell him Western is faster than going over the hill (and saves gas too) but he thinks I’m out of it and just takes PV Drive to Hawthorne instead. Oh well. We get back to the condo and I’ve ruined my tie and suit (which i need to take to be cleaned tomorrow), and I stumble up to my room where I change and fall asleep. Around 4 AM, I wake up, clean up a bit, and go down to inspect my damage. I pull my wallet and cell out of my ruined suit pants and I grab other various items in the pockets. I take a few Motrin and proceed to go back to bed. I wake up now feeling physically fine but nothing about last night escapes me.
This morning as I reflect, I’m so embarrassed. Why of all places to get hammered do i choose my friends’ wedding? My pastor is at the next table and so are various folks who all know my parents. I pass out and never even see the couple come by to toast our table AND near the end of the evening, I guess there was a game where Nicole hides under a table and Bruce has to figure out which one… and of course, stupid drunk me is now on camera passed out at the table she hides under. Damn I’ll never live this one down. In the car and at my table, I claim that I need to experience getting truly hammered before I turn 30 as an excuse, but that’s really not much of a life goal is it?
So why did I do it? I don’t know. Part of me is on a high because this week so many things happened. The biggest of which I guess I can post now since it’ll be announced at work on Monday (and few of my-coworkers read this unless they’re avoiding work at work) is that my request for transfer to our new El Segundo office was approved and I begin on the 16th of April. My commute goes from over an hour each way to about 10 minutes each way. Sweet! Another has been an upcoming vacation which, while I’m excited to go, also has me stressed a bit since I haven’t gotten my passport back from the government because they screwed up. Ugh. There are other things which have me stressed as well in both my personal and professional life and I’m not really good about letting go of stress so I need this vacation badly. Did I drink cause i was stressed? Probably not. Did I drink because I has happy and celebratory? Perhaps but i went over board if that was the case. Did I drink because I’m depressed about turning 30 later this year? That’s probably more likely. So if you like hanging out with Drunk Jake, we can hit McCormick every week night after the 16th. See ya guys there! You have from April 16th thru September 9th for this open invitation. Once I am 30, I’ll have to find some other midlife crisis to get bent out of shape over…. My hair still smells like puke. =(
