Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Top 2 Drunken Moments Experienced Not By Me, But By Someone In The Vicinity of Me

Happy Tuesday everyone. I hope you are, like me, enjoying life by being slightly intoxicated at work (don't tell anyone) and contemplating your chances of scoring with the newest executive assistant hired in the office.

I thought we should celebrate this Tuesday with me telling you of the Top 2 Drunken Moments Experienced Not By Me, But By Someone In The Vicinity of Me.

I know that you have a very strong desire for me to tell you stories that involve stupid things I have done, but I'm not really up for that today. I don't want to tell you about the time I broke into the student union in college and got myself locked in. I am not going to tell you about the time I threw up 12 red, girl drinks on a tour bus at 3:00 am in Colorado. I don't even feel the need to tell you about the time I slept in the bushes outside of my dorm room because I couldn't find my keys (they were in my pocket).

No, today I want to tell you about the misfortune of others. I am what you might call a "caring friend." If there is someone in need, I will be there for them. Of course by that I mean I will be there to laugh, point, call others to laugh and point, and then run when the cops show up. I'm a nice guy like that. Think about it like this: If you are my friend and you get so drunk that you do something stupendously stupid - you most likely are not going to remember it the next day. If you want to know how you ended up with a transvestite hooker in your bed - then I will be there to remind you of the details the next day. Otherwise, how would you ever know what really happened. Plus, no one likes it when others intervene in their drunken escapades. It is best to let the drunkenness flow naturally.

In reverse order - Top 2 Drunk Moments Experienced Not By Me, But By Someone In The Vicinity of Me:

Number 2 - In college, my roommates and I were pre-gaming at our house. This began at 4 p.m. when the last of us got out of class and we went for Taco Bell and beer. At 10:30 (6 and a half hours of drinking later) we decided to go a party of a friend. Only, we remembered from the last time we went to a party of this girl's house that it was impossible to get inside because of how many people showed up, so it basically consisted of a shit ton of people standing around a front yard and drinking. We didn't know if there were going to be kegs there so we decided it was best if we brought a lot of beer. This is when my friend Danny came up with a genius idea: we would go to Wal-Mart and buy an ice chest.

You see, we started talking about what kind of beer we were going to buy, and then started thinking about holding this beer on someone's front lawn like a bunch of idiots. Danny's idea was best summed up by him when he said, "Dudes, if we get an ice chest we'll have some place for our beer, but also a place to sit if we get tired of standing." We were deeply concerned with looking like idiots while holding beer in the middle of a yard, so we decided the remedy of three guys sitting on an ice chest in the middle of a yard would be so much better. Anyway, the fucking ice chest doesn't have anything to do with the story - so quit fixating on it.

So we get to the Wal-Mart. Danny decides we need a cart (for the beer) so he grabs the first one he sees, and yells to my other roommate Joey, "Get in. I'll push." Joey, being the smart guy that he is, jumps in. Danny begins running through the parking lot screaming like an idiot and pushing Joey. After his second lap he gives Joey a final push - which goes straight into the side of a maroon Ford Taurus. Joey flies over the hood on to the pavement in a heap. Danny and I both, being the concerned friends that we are, run directly to the side of the car, where we begin examining the side of the Taurus (which has a huge fucking scratch in it). Joey gets up holding his forearm, which he immediately declares is broken. We tell him to "quit being a pussy" and "to rub some dirt on it and take out his tampon" and other similarly supportive things.

Joey suggests we take him to the ER. Danny tells him we can't do that. He has been drinking, and he'll get arrested - Danny tells Joey. Joey, being the smart guy that he is says, "holy shit, you're right." So we head in to Wal-Mart, buy thirty beers or so, and head on to our party. Of course, Joey can't move his arm and has some pretty bad swelling in it - so he takes off his shirt, makes a sling out of it, and ties it around his shoulder. So there we are, three guys - sitting on an ice chest - one not wearing a shirt because it is wrapped around him in a make-shift sling. The next day, an x-ray revealed Joey's arm was broken in two places. What a trooper. Not one of us got laid that night.

Number 1 - My senior year of college I met a girl. Her name was Natalie. Here is what you need to know about Natalie. She was hot. When you walk into a room full of people there is always the hottest girl in the room. Universally, men can spot the hottest girl in the room within 4 seconds, and 98% of the time it will be the same girl picked by all men. For example, if you took two guys and faced them in the direction of 40 girls standing in a room, one guy could say, "damn - do you see that girl," and the other guy would immediately say, "fuckin' A - she is hot" (That is, of course, if he were the type of guy who says things like "Fuckin' A"). Anyway, Natalie was that girl.

Natalie and I had the sexual intercourse. I tell you this at the front of this paragraph because I am just so fucking proud of it. We did it. We had the sex. Anyway, we had been drinking all night at a karaoke bar. Things progressed and it soon became clear that I would be going to Natalie's apartment. The only problem - Natalie was drinking way too much. I knew that if I didn't have the sex soon, we would be past the point of sexability. Luckily, Natalie held up like the hot girl I knew she was. We both closed the bar with tequila shots. I won't get into the details of the sexual relations, but lets just say - I was amazing. Have you ever been in the middle of the sexing when you think to yourself, "Goddamn I wish I had looked at a clock before I started because this has to be a new record!" Well that was me. I was like Charles Bronson in the 'Great Escape' - I was digging tunnels.

So things in that department came to a end (so to speak). She was blissfully happy (as are most women that encounter me). We decide I am sleeping there because I am way to drunk to make it home. We both fall asleep in her bed. At 4 am - I wake up to her climbing and clawing over the top of me like an insane person. She is yelling, "I'm gonna be sick - move, move!" She makes it over me and runs for the bathroom door. Only she misses the door by 4 feet and runs smack into the wall at full force. I guess impending vomit is way more important than pain and humiliation, so she bounces off of the wall, adjusts course and sprints to the bathroom. Thereafter I was treated to a half hour of vomit-sounds.

Before you berate me and my coldheartedness - I tried to go in and help her, but she locked the door behind her. I don't know why. I knocked and asked if she was okay - she said she was fine - she was sorry - etc. What else could I do? I went back to sleep.

Thirty minutes later, I wake up not knowing where I am or what has happened, but someone is knocking on a door. I get up and go to the front door of the apartment - there is no one there. I return to the bedroom and hear the knocking again - it is coming from the bathroom. Natalie is inside and she is crying.

"Natalie, what's wrong?" I say as I try the knob - still locked.

"My door is broken!" She cries through the door.

"Natalie, its locked - you have to unlock it."

"I CAN'T GET OUT!" She screams at me through the door.

"Okay calm down - do you see the doorknob. . ." It was then that I realize there is no light under the door - the lights were totally out. Then I realize she is not jiggling the door knob like she is tyring to open it. "Natalie - do you have the doorknob?" I hear her scratching at the door, and then -

"I can't find the knob - it's not on the door"

"Natalie - the knob is on the other side - try your left side"

The door knob turns, the door opens and a teary eyed Natalie looks at me and says, "the doorknob was broken." Totally naked and smelling faintly of vomit she slid back into bed. Let me tell you, my lovely little people. She was still hot.

There you have it. The top 2 funniest drunk things (in my opinion) to have ever occurred in my presence. A close third (which I may tell some other time) was my friend getting drunk - pulling out his penis, and telling everyone how big it was. "You can tell how big it is when it is in your mouth" he said.

Have a great Tuesday, and remember that those times when you see only one set of footprints, it was those times when I carried you.


HAR said...

Loved it! It was well worth the trouble of writing it all.

Erica AP said...

Holy shit. Drunk people are fun!! Except when they are puking. I run away because I have a slight phobia of the puking.

Alex said...

that. was. brilliant. well played good sir.

blythe said...

kids play. those stories are kids play.

dmbmeg said...

I agree with Blythe. Dude, I reached 2nd base with a broken foot. That's how I roll.

Regardless, way to pork the hot girl.

Snow White said...

LOLOL Great stories! You are always good for a laugh. Thanks!

Garrett Reid said...

Har: What are you saying? It was way too fucking long?

Erica: I am a terrible puker. If there is one skill I wish I could improve it would be my puking ability.

Alex: Why. Thank. You. You. are. a. gentleman. and. a. scholar.

Blythe: You don't think those are good drinking moments? Well I refrained from telling the story about how I ended up as someone's bitch in a Mexican prison. Is THAT kids play?

DmbMeg: How hard is it to get to second base? All you have to do is let your breasts get fondled.

Snow: Thanks. Tell that to Blythe and DmbMeg. They didn't like it much.

CJ said...

I love drunk people stories...

and dmbmeg just used the word pork... how fucking awesome is that?

great shit.

blythe said...

oh garrett, it was a funny story, hilarious, in fact, i'm just saying, someone like you has got to have more. bring it!

sybil law said...


Wanderlusting said...

I am the only executive assistant at work.

But if people at work read your blog, it might explain why some co-worker got drunk yesterday and hit on me.

Usually I'm the only one getting toasted and work and I usually just end up hitting on myself...

Blake Redgrave said...

I am convinced that, without alcohol, the world would be devoid of funny stories... I mean, stories that actually make you laugh. Not those "funny" stories that secretaries tell about all the hilarious things their stupid fucking cats do.