From time to time, they just occur. Most are not planned. But for some reason there will always be a story behind it. They may or may not involve alcohol, (leaning toward the 'may' side) or involve random bad ideas (again probably) and usually includes a group of roughly 3-6 people. This night has some memories, and though the images have faded slightly with time, they're still very vivid in feeling.
This was one of those times. This was Tequila night.
Drinking games exist through out the world, because, well games are 10 times more fun with a buzz. Drinking is supposed to be fun, and if you aren't having fun, I'd suggest not doing it. This particular night, I'm attempting to do a night of unparalleled drinking fun. Myself and my friend Mac are going to watch "The Big Lebowski" and attempt to drink a shot of tequila every single time they say the word 'dude'. Some of our other friends come as way, not to participate but to just watch. I thought this was peculiar since I thought this idea was fantastic.
I had not seen the movie in some time...
In the opening scene they say the word dude 3 times in less than 30 seconds. That's 1 shot every 10 seconds. That will make any one's stomach quiver a little, I don't care how much you fancy yourself a drinker. In the first 10 minutes I'm probably close to ten shots, and now even as I slow my pace to a crawl, I can't take back those first ten. This was a foolish idea, but now, I feel fun, I feel invincible, and I am alive. And I cannot wait to start dancing.
I cannot wait to dance because Mac is fading, he is tapping out, he has to throw up. I claim victory as Tequila night champ, I begin to shake, and Mac is unhappy with these actions. Somewhat playfully, very much drunk-ily, he shoves my dancing ass. I was not much for balance at this stage and promptly fall over laughing. Mac wants to go to the bar, at least he thinks he does. I want no such thing, however I do apparently want go home. Thankfully my friends settled me down and without much effort convinced me to just sleep on a comfortable (then) blanket.
The next morning, I awake on a shitty (now) blanket on the floor. I am told of my actions the night before, (and shown via video camera) and I again laugh. I allegedly had attempted to help my buddy up the steps to his room as he was unable to make it by himself. We all agree we shall not attempt anything of this nature again, (though we would later attempt the Rambo challenge issued by a Co-Worker within a year) and agree that while it was fun night for sure last night the hangover we are currently facing makes us all want to do nothing but lay down on very comfortable beds.
No comments:
Post a Comment