Last Wednesday was my friend Steve's 21st birthday. Now, I know I've been celebrating lots of birthdays recently, but this one was special; you see, Steve, our friend jeremy, and I were high school drinking buddies, and whenever we are together trouble is a-brewin'. Let's put it this way; I've had my nose broken twice in my life, and both of those breaks were the result of a combination of alcohol and Steve's fist (but I still win because when we were 16 I broke his nose at a show in a clubhouse and it took every roll of paper towels in the place to clean up all the blood. Oh, and he had to get his nose broken back into place, while mine conveniently broke straight down both times, leaving no obvious sign of the break). So, as you can imagine, we'd been waiting for this day for years.
So Jeremy, Steve, Lucas, Alex, his friend Ryan, Morgan, Paul, and I all met up at Jeremy's place beforehand to map out the evening. We decided to begin at good ol' McTeigh's and then do the smart thing and end the evening at The Bucket Shop, a bar that is a short walk from my complex.
We arrived at McTeigh's and began ordering drinks. I, for one, ordered a beer and a glass of Jameson on the rocks, and then ordered a burger to line my stomach. After a while the waiter came back and said "So, apparently we're out of hamburgers. The cooks told me just now when I went to pick it up for you. So, for the inconvenience, I'm going to give you a fre shot." So I ordered a shot of Jack and leaned back to enjoy beer number two. About this time, the rest of the party decided that we should go ahead and head to the Bucket Shop so that we could all drink with Steve at midnight. This left me with a glass of whisky, a full beer, and a shot, all of which needed to be gone in about two minutes. So, since it was Steve's birthday and crunkness was therefore mandatory, I laced up the ol' drinking shoes and downed all three one after the other. Needless to say, in the car on the way back to my apartment I started getting pretty drunk.
We parked the car and began walking up the street to the car. After a minute or two Steve and I realized that it was something like 11:55; in other words, we'd have to haul ass to make it up there for the necessary midnight toast. If any of y'all happened to be cruising Lenox Road at that time you would have seen some drunk kids running at top speed up the street. I imagine it was a pretty funny sight.
We made it to the bar right at about midnight, and, as was fitting for the occasion, the bartender gave Steve his first legal shot on the house. After that we ordered a round of Jager for each of us for the birthday toast. The guy sitting next to us at the bar immediatley decided to by Steve a birthday drink, and asked jeremy and I what he should buy him. "Let's see," we said; "What's gonna be the roughest thing we can give him?" So we had the bartender pour him a shot of tequila. The thing is, this was no ordinary shot of tequila: it was a damn tumbler filled about 3/4 of the way full, or about 4 ounces or so of the best way to not remember an evening.
We ended up sitting at a table outside on the deck, right across the street from Lenox Mall. The deck was packed nearly to capacity, and I kid you not when I say that we were the entertainment for everyone who was lucky enough to sit outside. First of all, we're pretty rowdy kids in the first place. And when prolific amounts of alcohol and a birthday are added intot he mix, things just get fun. We started by having Steve stand ont he table while we all stood on our chairs and annouced to the bar that it was our friend's birthday, and then follwed the speech with a toast that included everyone who was outside. At some point I thought back to my 21st birthday and remembered that every single person I talked to that night bought me a drink. So, obviously, I suggested that we go talk to every table and score as many free drinks for Steve as possible. It worked flawlessly; every single table we talked to bought him at least one drink. Oh, I guess I should explain that, in our group friends, you are required to get the birthday boy too drunk to be able to speak, let alone fuck, on his birthday. And Steve, as the last one of the three to turn 21, got the full brunt of this tradition. Our waitress actually cut him off, but Vladdic, acting the jackass as usual, told the waitress that he'd just keep slipping him drinks anyway. Steve ended up clutching one of the trees out front for dear life and vomiting all over Lenox Road. At which point we decided to get the hell out before somehting bad happened.
Now, between Bucket Shop and my apartment is ritzy, ritzy Lenox Mall and a four star Mariott. Out front of the Mariott is a large fountain that looks like a step pyramid and is surrounded by prickly bushes. Lucas and someone else said something to the effect of "Hey, let's jump in these bushes!" I replied by saying "Fuck that shit! Let's go jump in that fucking fountain!" Now, this fountain is about twelve or fifteen feet high, with each stairstep illuminated and a thin sheet of water flowing down the sides from a shallow pool at the top, and is about thirty feet from the lobby of the hotel in the middle of a well-lit turnaround. There were dozens of people, both hotel patrons and staff, milling about out front doing rich people hotel stuff. Lucas tried to talk me out of it, but I was already sprinting towards the fountain, followed by Vladdic. I had the presence of mind to pull my cellphone out of my pocket just in case, but other than that I hit the first step wearing every item of clothing I was wearing, including shoes. So I'm running up hte side of this fountain, and my shoes are a little bit wet from the splashing, but so what, right? I reached the top, and planned to hop around in the shallow pool and yell drunken nonsense at the people in front of the hotel. So I stepped into the pool, and the next thing I knew I was completely fucking submerged. Turns out that the pool wasn't so shallow at all; in fact, it was deep enough to completely submerge all 5'6" of me. I crawled out saoking wet, from my shoes to my hair, and laughing uncontrolably. Not even your fancy hotels are safe from our ridiculous drunken shenanigans! Of course, now every time I see some big fountain outside some place I was to go jump in it.
Anyway, all in all, we spent about $450 total that night on booze. I had a really, really good time.
But, as such, I spent all of my availible money that night. And to make things even better, my job decided not to pay me last week, so I'm still flat fucking broke. But it was worth it.
So, other than that, I haven't been up to too much lately: I've been working full time and just hanging about the house when I'm not at work. Oh, last night I met a kid whose friend was convicted of assault for hitting his cousin over the head with a tire iron. But here's the best part- his cousin asked him to do it! They were fucked up, and he said "Hey man, hit me with this tire iron! It'll be hilarious!" People are fuckin' weird.
So Jeremy, Steve, Lucas, Alex, his friend Ryan, Morgan, Paul, and I all met up at Jeremy's place beforehand to map out the evening. We decided to begin at good ol' McTeigh's and then do the smart thing and end the evening at The Bucket Shop, a bar that is a short walk from my complex.
We arrived at McTeigh's and began ordering drinks. I, for one, ordered a beer and a glass of Jameson on the rocks, and then ordered a burger to line my stomach. After a while the waiter came back and said "So, apparently we're out of hamburgers. The cooks told me just now when I went to pick it up for you. So, for the inconvenience, I'm going to give you a fre shot." So I ordered a shot of Jack and leaned back to enjoy beer number two. About this time, the rest of the party decided that we should go ahead and head to the Bucket Shop so that we could all drink with Steve at midnight. This left me with a glass of whisky, a full beer, and a shot, all of which needed to be gone in about two minutes. So, since it was Steve's birthday and crunkness was therefore mandatory, I laced up the ol' drinking shoes and downed all three one after the other. Needless to say, in the car on the way back to my apartment I started getting pretty drunk.
We parked the car and began walking up the street to the car. After a minute or two Steve and I realized that it was something like 11:55; in other words, we'd have to haul ass to make it up there for the necessary midnight toast. If any of y'all happened to be cruising Lenox Road at that time you would have seen some drunk kids running at top speed up the street. I imagine it was a pretty funny sight.
We made it to the bar right at about midnight, and, as was fitting for the occasion, the bartender gave Steve his first legal shot on the house. After that we ordered a round of Jager for each of us for the birthday toast. The guy sitting next to us at the bar immediatley decided to by Steve a birthday drink, and asked jeremy and I what he should buy him. "Let's see," we said; "What's gonna be the roughest thing we can give him?" So we had the bartender pour him a shot of tequila. The thing is, this was no ordinary shot of tequila: it was a damn tumbler filled about 3/4 of the way full, or about 4 ounces or so of the best way to not remember an evening.
We ended up sitting at a table outside on the deck, right across the street from Lenox Mall. The deck was packed nearly to capacity, and I kid you not when I say that we were the entertainment for everyone who was lucky enough to sit outside. First of all, we're pretty rowdy kids in the first place. And when prolific amounts of alcohol and a birthday are added intot he mix, things just get fun. We started by having Steve stand ont he table while we all stood on our chairs and annouced to the bar that it was our friend's birthday, and then follwed the speech with a toast that included everyone who was outside. At some point I thought back to my 21st birthday and remembered that every single person I talked to that night bought me a drink. So, obviously, I suggested that we go talk to every table and score as many free drinks for Steve as possible. It worked flawlessly; every single table we talked to bought him at least one drink. Oh, I guess I should explain that, in our group friends, you are required to get the birthday boy too drunk to be able to speak, let alone fuck, on his birthday. And Steve, as the last one of the three to turn 21, got the full brunt of this tradition. Our waitress actually cut him off, but Vladdic, acting the jackass as usual, told the waitress that he'd just keep slipping him drinks anyway. Steve ended up clutching one of the trees out front for dear life and vomiting all over Lenox Road. At which point we decided to get the hell out before somehting bad happened.
Now, between Bucket Shop and my apartment is ritzy, ritzy Lenox Mall and a four star Mariott. Out front of the Mariott is a large fountain that looks like a step pyramid and is surrounded by prickly bushes. Lucas and someone else said something to the effect of "Hey, let's jump in these bushes!" I replied by saying "Fuck that shit! Let's go jump in that fucking fountain!" Now, this fountain is about twelve or fifteen feet high, with each stairstep illuminated and a thin sheet of water flowing down the sides from a shallow pool at the top, and is about thirty feet from the lobby of the hotel in the middle of a well-lit turnaround. There were dozens of people, both hotel patrons and staff, milling about out front doing rich people hotel stuff. Lucas tried to talk me out of it, but I was already sprinting towards the fountain, followed by Vladdic. I had the presence of mind to pull my cellphone out of my pocket just in case, but other than that I hit the first step wearing every item of clothing I was wearing, including shoes. So I'm running up hte side of this fountain, and my shoes are a little bit wet from the splashing, but so what, right? I reached the top, and planned to hop around in the shallow pool and yell drunken nonsense at the people in front of the hotel. So I stepped into the pool, and the next thing I knew I was completely fucking submerged. Turns out that the pool wasn't so shallow at all; in fact, it was deep enough to completely submerge all 5'6" of me. I crawled out saoking wet, from my shoes to my hair, and laughing uncontrolably. Not even your fancy hotels are safe from our ridiculous drunken shenanigans! Of course, now every time I see some big fountain outside some place I was to go jump in it.
Anyway, all in all, we spent about $450 total that night on booze. I had a really, really good time.
But, as such, I spent all of my availible money that night. And to make things even better, my job decided not to pay me last week, so I'm still flat fucking broke. But it was worth it.
So, other than that, I haven't been up to too much lately: I've been working full time and just hanging about the house when I'm not at work. Oh, last night I met a kid whose friend was convicted of assault for hitting his cousin over the head with a tire iron. But here's the best part- his cousin asked him to do it! They were fucked up, and he said "Hey man, hit me with this tire iron! It'll be hilarious!" People are fuckin' weird.
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Please don't stop messaging me in the middle of the night with drunken randomness, for serious. You always crack me up. And, thanks! I do consider myself complimented, as the tattoo IS completely rad.
♥