Only the good die young

Inspired by the many drinking stories I’ve been reading lately, I present to you my top five favorite drinking stories:

A word of warning to anybody who’s related to me in any way, shape or form, I’m about to share some stories that might not be something you want to know about me. So, please proceed to the very end. Thanks!

Location: dive bar in Harrison, NJ
Date: Early spring of 2004
Witnesses: my boyfriend at the time, Danny

I had finished half a bottle of wine by myself before we headed to one of the many dive bars in Harrison. At the bar, a man celebrating his 62nd birthday insisted on buying me a couple of drinks. How do you say no to a man that old? You don’t!

The result? In the middle of a conversation with Danny’s friends, I had the sudden urge to take a nap, so I did. They thought I had narcolepsy. Who knows how long I was out, but from what I heard from Danny’s friends, Danny stood by me to make sure I was alright. Danny also made sure I didn’t stumble when we walked home, he held my hair while I threw up and he made sure that I got cleaned up before passing out in bed. He did other things as well, but that’s none of your damn business!

Location: Las Vegas, NV
Date: Thanksgiving holiday 2001
Witnesses: Paris hotel guests, and my boyfriend at the time, Jason

Well, it’s nothing like Trashman’s Vegas story, and it’s actually nowhere near as bad as the others. If anything, this is a nice drinking story, if you could ever have one in Vegas. Night after night of drinking was somehow still very romantic. It helped a lot that we had a fancy schmancy room at the Paris hotel, we had great aphrodisiacs, my boyfriend is one of my most favorite people ever, and I kept winning every night.

What Bill’s friend, Ryan, said is so true: “What happens in Vegas, stays in your heart.”

Location: Boston, MA
Date: July, 2004
Witnesses: Bill and his coworker, Brian(?)

On our last night in Boston, we decided to hit a few bars. The first bar we hit had three very drunk, very Irish girls. They were entertaining to watch, what with their heavy Irish accents and drunken antics. But after a while, I mean, soon after they were kicked out of the bar for creating too much of a ruckus, the novelty wore out. When we walked out of the bar later on, it was to see the same three chicks sprawled on the floor, giggling hysterically. It was at that point I told myself I wouldn’t do anything that stupid.

Two bars and many many drinks later, I woke up in my hotel room having no recollection whatsoever of how I got there. My only consolation was that I was passed out in bed and not on the streets.

The 4-hr drive home the following day was not pleasant at all. I got pulled over for speeding in Connecticut. Considering how I felt like I was still drunk, I think I got off easy.

Location: Sandbar, Jersey City, NJ
Date: Around late summer of 2001
Witnesses: Nina and Lizza

Imagine a hangar filled with meatheads, slutty girls, gallons of cheap alcohol, and a room flooded with foam. Yes, foam, as in the bubbles you get in a bath. What do you get? Three very drunk, very soaked, and horny girls making out with three very drunk, very meaty, very blurry figures. One of the blurry figures invited us on his little boat jam-packed with beer, cause he somehow thought that just because we were drunk, we were also stupid. My “get the hell outta there” senses were tingling.

This was the one and only time I made out with a complete stranger. Not that others haven’t tried, and oh believe me, they have. I just never felt the need to make out with complete strangers after that.

Location: Mayfair Farms, West Orange, NJ
Date: December 2, 2001, my big sister’s wedding day
Witnesses: my entire family, my brother in-law’s entire family, friends and guests

They actually have this on video! Me, the maid of honor, giving an impromptu speech at their wedding, it’s something I won’t be living down for a very long time. After the church ceremony, the bride, the groom, the best man and I got into the limo where the driver proceeeded to serve us chilled champagne. The best man decided to rehearse his speech, and I decided to finish off the bottle. The 15 minute ride to the reception hall was not short enough.

When we arrived, we had our own little private room stocked with all sorts of alcohol and food! My sister planned her wedding perfectly!

Well, to make a long story short, by the time it was my turn to give my speech, I had no clue what was coming out of my mouth. But I managed to make them all laugh, managed to keep the champagne from spilling, and even managed to wish the newlyweds a happy life together.

Okay, so my drinking stories are nothing as outrageous as the ones most people like to share. I don’t have any disgusting bodily malfunctions, no regretful one-night stands, no permanent and inexplicable “I heart metal” tattoos, and I never needed to get a Vegas annulment.

But they’re my drinking stories, and having them keeps me from dying young.


~ by Binibining Beth on November 8, 2005.

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