boy, do i have a drinking story for you

Jack Black: Class, do you know what a hangover is?
Kid: Yeah, it means you're drunk.
Jack Black: No, it means I was drunk...yesterday.

This one goes down in history as the weirdest, scariest, most hilarious night of drinking I have ever had.

Adam and I drove ourselves down to Hillcrest to do a little binging, starting out at a place called Hamburger Mary's. Two margaritas, one Midori Sour, one Vodka Cran, and an Amaretto Sour later, we were at this sketchy-ass gay bar in which the female population totaled four, myself included. I am so wasted at this point that I don't seem to care that I am ridiculously out of place and continue to dance floppily to whatever 50 Cent song they were playing (the irony of 50 Cent being played in a gay bar was not lost on me, however). Eventually, after downing some poor kid's waterbottle without their knowledge, and perhaps without mine as well, I decide I must go outside to get some air.

Mistake. The line to get in is outrageously long and immediately the bouncer refuses to let me back in, as I am "too drunk, sweetheart." Adam's still in there, and with him his car keys which will unlock my cell phone, wallet, and trip home. I have no cash left. In other words, I am royally screwed. Dejectedly, I sit outside on this planter mumbling nonsense to myself and hoping, praying, demanding that Adam come out immediately to rescue me. However, Adam is dancing with the gay men and is also too drunk to realize that I am missing. My boobs are not important here. I am an invisible woman (for the first time, and annoying, in this case).

I try a few more fruitless attempts at getting back in, and finally the only thing I can think of to do is head back to Adam's truck. My right shoe has created a gigantic and deep blister on the ball of my foot, and at some point, the skin has begun to tear away. So, inbetween trying to act like a)I wasn't shit-faced beyond belief and could walk in a straight line, b) not toss my cookies, and c)figure out where the FUCK I am in bloody Hillcrest, where I have gotten lost EVERY SINGLE TIME I've been there (and that's sober), I'm limping like crazy and in severe pain.

I make it to the truck, and climb in the bed in hopes that Adam will not be long in coming so that we can get our asses in a cab and pass in the comfort of a place with walls. No such luck for me...I spend a fair amount of time alternating between trying to convince the passersby that I belong in this truck and not to have me arrested for vagrancy and launching some sort of diatribe about how fucked-up anti-choice protests are. Eventually I curl up into a fetal position and try not to freeze my ass off. At some point someone gave me a blanket, which at the time was a very nice gesture but in retrospect I wonder how long they'd been watching me.

When I wake up, it's 6:30 am, the sun's coming up, and there's still no sign of Adam. I'd been hoping it was all a dream, but no- I have the blanket, I'm dirty as fuck from lying in the bed of a truck all night, and I'm sure I look like a hobo. I'm relieved that, although I slept outside on a busy street in a big city, I appear to have been left alone. This might be due to the fact that once I got the blanket, I covered myself from head to toe and trying to appear as cargo-like as possible. My bank's nearby- I think to go there and get out some cash for a cab ride. Oh, it's Sunday. The only phone number I know by heart I can call collect is my parents...and I'd like to leave that for the last possible minute.

At 8:30, I see Adam appear around the corner. He spots me and starts running, while I just stand there and shake my head. His story is almost as crazy as mine- after getting kicked out of the club he walked 30 blocks to his boyfriend's house and was lucky enough to be let in by his roomate and sleep in a bed. His wrist is all fucked up- bringing our drinking casualties to 2. Now that I'm safe and warm, and Adam and I have found each other, we're laughing hysterically. I can't believe this all happened to me. I fucking slept in a truck in the middle of Hillcrest! God damn, that's funny.

I feel like crap-ola today. I want to eat all the junk food and big fatty hamburgers I can get my hands on, and then some Snickers. I can't really walk very well, because my blister is the size of China and I can't put any weight on it. My head is pounding.

Have I learned my lesson not to drink so much and wander off in a strange neighborhood?

Yeah, next time I'll take my cell phone with me.

[For more drinking hilarity, amuse yourself here]