As you've seen, I've been to my fair share of 21st birthday celebrations. Here's the tale of my most recent endeavor. Back in mid-November we celebrated the 21st of my friend Jason Joiner
However, my journey into the darkness doesn't begin there. Oh no. It begins around 7pm that night. I was just finishing my pre-downtown cleaning when Suzy called me up and said, "HEY, come to my office holiday party. There's free beer, free food, and I don't really know anyone here and a couple of old guys are starting to creep me out." How could a chivalrous man like me sit by when there was free beer at hand. So I drove over there, mingled, had some tacos from a catering taco truck, and killed of a six-pack... just to watch it die.
After that it was on to the meeting place; Posse East. Of course everyone was running late, so I made the best of the situation. I bought myself a pitcher. Finally the man of the night showed up, drank his birthday beer, and, along with his entourage, departed for his christening as a legal drinker.
Naturally we started off at some of the usual spots like The Library, The Aquarium, and so on. This is all well and good, but I'm pretty sure I was not supposed to be matching him shot-for-shot like I was doing. After the first couple of bars I kinda blacked out. The next thing I know its 3am, I'm in my company truck, there's a chihuahua in my lap, and my ass hurts. After extensive research and questioning, I've come to find out the reasons why.
One of the bars we went to was Coyote Ugly, a bar that I am now boycotting for the rest of my life (notice the lack of a link). The last time birthday I was there I got hosed with water from behind the bar. This time we got the bartender to give Jason his birthday spankings... with his leather belt. Well, I'll be damned if I was gonna be that drunk and let the birthday boy have all the fun, so I told her I wanted a spanking too. After the first two licks I told her she hit like a sissy girl and that I'd felt gentle breezes with more sting in them. Thus she turned the buckle on me and I learned a valuable lesson:
DO NOT TAUNT HAPPY FUN BALL (or a women with a belt/whip)
After we left we went to a couple of other bars where I apparently force-fed Jason a couple more drinks. After the nastiest of the nasties, the Texas Death Rattle, at the Ritz I apparently picked up Jason and spun him around. Then he was escorted to the bathroom and I was escorted out (peacefully).
After 6th we all went back to Posse East where some of the usual night-owls were still hanging out. I sat down and started talking to Melinda who had her chihuahua Corona on the table, shivering like all those dogs do (and it was cold). Just around last call she, and everyone else at the table went in to close their tabs. I drunkenly interpreted this as everyone leaving and thought they had left the dog. So I picked it up and went across the street to rest off my drunkenness in the car. Around 2:30am a sobbing Melinda showed up at the passenger door and I realized she was looking for her dog. I told her I wasn't going anywhere so she went back across the street. Then I forgot that happened, realized there was a dog in my lap and couldn't figure out what to do with it. So I drove over to Megan Cash's apartment (I knew they had taken care of the dog before), knocked on the door, and handed a confused, pajama-clad Megan the dog, and left. The only thing I said was, "here" as I passed the pooch. I slept until about six in the parking lot of the Chi Phi house before I went home, freshened up and went to work.
So, yeah, that's about it. I wish I could come up with a drink tally for the evening, but I'm pretty sure I'd lose count somewhere around 10 beers and 4 shots. Needless to say, work was a little rough the next day. And its reason's like that that I feel validated for skipping a Sunday night on 6th every once in a while.
