Tales of Dickery: The Never-ending beer

What’s better than dickery? Dickery with beer.

The Never-ending beer

One time after an event with a former employer, I went with a few co-workers (we’ll call them Lando and Zeke) to a seedy, little dive sports bar for dinner and a few beers. And before I get into the meat of this story, I have to tell you all that this dickery is going to be inflicted on Zeke and it involves him drinking beer. Zeke does not normally drink much. In fact, Zeke is what we in the imbibing community refer to as a “lightweight”.

So, Lando, Zeke and I get a table and we all decide to order some pitchers. We eat our dinner and continue to drink and make fun of anyone and everyone. All the while Zeke is drinking his beer. And he’s getting progressively drunker and drunker. And Lando and I are loving it.

You see, Zeke still thought he was working on his same beer the entire time. He hadn’t planned on drinking much, but every time he got up to go to the bathroom, I poured more beer into his glass (careful not to fill it as that would possibly tip him off). So there he is just drinking way more than he thought he was, all the time thinking that he’s on just one beer.

That went on for a good while, long enough for us to go through several pitchers; most of which went directly to Zeke to keep the fun going. After a while we headed back to the hotel and Zeke is absolutely smashed. And Zeke, being the lightweight that he is, is definitely headed for one hell of a hangover.

The next morning before the luncheon (with numerous people that we’re supposed to be impressing), I go up to Zeke’s room to check on him and drag him down to the lobby. I knock and he answers looking like somebody just threw him out of a moving vehicle, then someone else kicked him in the junk, while another person hosed him down with a fire hose, and a last person decided to try and dress him while they were wasted themselves. So, he didn’t look too good.

I walk in and hang out a few minutes while Zeke tries his best to function on a basic human level and finish getting ready. He comes over and I notice that his tie is all kinds of crooked; so I do the nice thing and adjust it for him. Apparently I tightened it just the right amount so that both the tie and my hand hit his throat in just the right manner that sent him into vomit mode. He spins around on his heels and takes off for the bathroom (I’ve never seen him move that fast before). He yarfs, brushes his teeth again, and thanks me sarcastically for helping him with his tie.

The rest of my morning and early afternoon was spent watching Zeke try to impress a table full of people while he looked (and I’m sure felt worse than) death warmed over. I kinda enjoyed myself for that morning and afternoon.

Yet again, I’m a dick.

D