Now I'm not one of those people who can "hold their liquor" so to speak.
Despite my unparalleled and oft-challenged1 ability to drink most alcohol at the same speed and ease at which a child drinks cherry Kool-Aid, I always seem to end up either here or here or here.
Why am I telling you this?
Because I don't learn.
Saturday night2, I went to a Russian restaurant in Brighton Beach for a friend's birthday. One of the caveats of this restaurant is that the provide a bottle of Vodka per table. So the drinking options were diet coke, water and vodka. So we were drinking Vodka straight but eventually I had to chase it with the diet coke because there was no way I was going to make it back to the city (an hour and fifteen minute subway ride).
Also, I had planned to head to Prohibition on 80th and Columbus Ave. to see my favorite 80's cover band, The Gilfords, after dinner.
So at 1 AM (or something like that), I dragged myself out of the restaurant. I should have known there was a problem when they stopped me to tell me that I had only handed them $1 for all the food.
I got on the train with good intentions. But it took me two failed attempts to transfer trains for me to surrender going anywhere afterwards.
I don't know when or where I transferred. All I know is I woke up at 125th Street and hopped off before it was too late.
I won't say when I got home. Just be happy that I did.
Oh yeah, before I left the house, I was doing my laundry. I rushed out fo the house so I didn't have a chance to put on clean sheets so I had to sleep on my bare mattress.
I woke up Sunday morning incredibly nauseous. The combination of vodka and Russian food were recreating the Battle of Stalingrad in my stomach. I thought I was going to break my favorite Don'ts for 2007 but I survived.
Then I went off to Jeremy's Ale House for 32 oz Styrofoam cups of beer, 20 cent wings and New York football.
Overall, I had four quarts of beer. Two during the Jets loss and two during the Giants loss. Between beers three and four, I managed to spill 32 ounces of Yuengling on my brand new Motorola RAZR3. After a couple of hours of appearing to be down for the count, it started working again. Unfortunately, my phone now reeks of Yuengling.
All and all, a pretty quiet weekend.
1 One person beat me in a race but she had a warm beer and I had a fresh cold one so I challenge the judge's decision.
2 I should mention that I had two beers before I left for Queens but I figured that by the time I got there, I would be fine. I'm sure it didn't help the situation.
3 One of the Don'ts I forgot to add was "Don't break your cellphone this year" as this RAZR is now my third phone in three years. Luckily, my subconscious knew this was an impossible task.
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1 comment:
The Gilfords = my friend mike's band. He's going to be so excited he got a shout-out on your blog!
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