Drunken Escapades: Issue #1

For no apparent reason, I decided to share one of my numerous drunken incidents with all of you. Mostly because I couldn't think of anything better today as my brain has already left for the weekend. Maybe I'll randomly post some of these as I recall them. That's the biggest problem though: being able to recall them, or at least all of it. Some might end up like a tag match: I start it and add as much as I can and tag in someone who was there to finish it...wait, that has the potential to be very bad. Bad? Yes. Funny for you? Definitely.

So let's start it off with one of my greatest hits (because it had the potential to be an international incident):

Ah, it was the summer of 1996 and I had just graduated high school. We were all going on our senior cruise to the Bahamas. The ship was called "The Fantasy", I now call it "The Debauchery". There were only about 25 of us total (grads and chaperones), and no one was old enough to give a damn about what we did. The oldest was a 20-something sister if that tells you anything.
Any-hoo, we're on our 2nd night and in Freeport for the entire night, so we have the opportunity to go bar hopping. And boy did we.

I started the evening off easy in a small group, just trying every beer on the menu; not over doing it or anything. A little later on, another group of us joined in at the bar we were at and in that group was a girl (referred to as "L") from another school that I was particularly fond of. We all sat around and chatted and drank and drank...and drank, until L decided we needed to take two of our friends back to the ship as they were way too shit faced. So we do. After getting questioned by the Bahamian Police, ship security and almost being thrown off the pier, L and I return.

Now we return to the group and continue to reduce ourselves to talking monkeys. L and I escorted each other to the bathroom for the majority of the evening, but I started to notice this guy at the bar looking at us each time we go past. I don't pay much attention to him though. Not until we're sitting there and I see him staring right at L (who happens to be sitting on my lap). I catch his gaze and proceed to stare him down until he looks away. I forget about it and go back to killing brain cells. A few minutes later the guy comes up to me and starts the following conversation:

Him: Do you have a problem with me and my friends?
Me: Huh?
Him: I said, do you have a problem with me and my friends?
Me: No. Should I?
Him: You stared at me a minute ago like you had a problem.
Me: Yeah, 'cause you were looking at the girl I'm with.
Him: blah blah blah ('cause I can't remember that part)
Me: Look, man. I'm freakin hammered and I got pissed 'cause you were looking at her and blah blah blah
Him: blah blah blah *nodding* *pats me on the shoulder and walks off*
Me:...beer...

So he ends up sending over this mammoth pitcher of something as an "oops, my bad". I check it first to make sure it's ok for L to drink. I think I drank all but 1 cup myself.

*I got nothing until...*

I wake up the next morning feeling like death warmed over. I check to make sure I have both kidneys and they weren't removed by some black market smuggler. Shower, vomit, dress, go outside on the deck for breakfast with the others.

As I try to avoid throwing myself overboard so that I can cure my hangover with the sweet, sweet embrace of the sea, and a never-ending sleep; my friends stop talking as a guy walks by us and says "Hello". They all look at me and, as usual, I have nothing. They ask me if I know that guy. "Ummm, not so much."

Them: "That's the guy you were about 2 seconds away from getting into a fight with last night at the bar."
Me: "Really? Cool."
Them: "um, do you know who he is?"
Me: "Francois from France. I dunno, who?"
Them: "That's the Cruise Director."
Me: ".................shit."

And I think good old "Francois" knew what they were telling me, because he smiled at me when I looked at him. I gave him the good old "what's up?" nod and went back to trying not to die.

I spent the rest of the cruise avoiding Francois and making an ass out of myself in other situations (which are different stories all together), but that's one of the good stories that always gets brought up whenever I see people from high school.

My friend Jason likes to reminisce about how that night he was helping me get up the stairs to leave (the bar was downstairs and appropriately named "The Drop-off") and I walked, no, slammed right into a wall and just shrugged it off like it was nothing. My friend Jim likes to remind me of the shot of malt vinegar I took because it was slid in front of me and I was told it was bourbon.

Ahhh, memories.



What they don't tell you in the brochure is that you may see some jerkass either getting into a drunken fight with the elevator or about to get an ass whooping from a huge guy for making fun of his wife/girlfriend at comedy show.


D