After the 10 year bender I've been on, I recently decided to give up drinking for one month. That's right, one month. And because it was not court mandated (not yet anyhow), no one seemed to believe that I could do it. Those people... would be right.
Last night I broke down and reentered my home away from home: the bar. ANY bar! True it had only been about a week and a half, and techincally I work in a bar, too. But as much as I love sitting at home and relaxing on the couch, there just aren't enough new Offices on to keep my attention.
So last night, I called my posse (word) and told them to get their drinking shoes on! They were still under the impression that I planned to be the TRULY designated driver. It was quaint in concept, but once I got out I realized just how hard it was to go out and not to drink. The whole system is predicated on getting wasted. But I insisted on sipping my Coca-Cola on the rocks for a little over an hour, no sweat.
Why is it that a man will only offer to buy you a beer if you've told him you're not drinking? I take that back... Other conditions include: 1. cheap beer specials... we're talking a buck, max; 2. unprecedented hotness; 3. he's insanely rich, but hung like a pimple. I rest my case. Anyway, in this partiulcar case, I'm positive it was for a different reason entirely.... to prove to himself that he could make me bend. Despite all my refusals, my devilishly handsome pal Nick (first cousin to Cris Angel, btw. And yes, I do wish I was kidding) purchased me a cool, delicious beer and placed it in front of me. Try as I might, I could not resist her sweet temptation for long. The condensation on the bottle reminded me of my nose on a moderately tepid afternoon... How could I reject the beauty inside the bottle? It would be like I was rejecting myself! Essentially, I caved. Peer pressure - 1, Stephanie - 0. A.A., anyone?
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
I Know the Craziest People
I know at least one person that:
- threatened to fight people if they claimed not to like noodles
- hopes to one day be eaten by a shark
- pierced a part of their body with a safety pin (not in my presence, thank God!)
- claimed to be the missing Ninja Turtle, Valesquez
- jumped on the hood of my moving car
- stole a hot dog cart from inside a univeristy stadium
- wears jorts by choice
- stripped in a gentlemen's club while on vacation in Miami
- made out with the Oriole Bird on several occassions (oh wait, that's me)
that's just what I can think of off the top of my head... I'm sure there will be more to follow.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
"I Hope She's Worth It": Lessons on Why NOT to Hate Drink
This may not be our newest story, but it is a classic. One summer night, Stephanie called me from work. She was bemoaning her current romantic situation(s), and suggested that we go out for a few strong cocktails. I was also not too enthused with the male species at that particular moment, so we decided to turn it into an evening of hate drinking. For those of you who don't know what hate drinking means, it essentially is composed of getting highly intoxicated, dealing with your anger in an aggressive fashion, and taking such anger out on every member of the opposite sex who crosses your path. All the tell-tale signs were there that night, so we decided to go somewhere new, where we could get away with our hate drinking without the presence of people we knew.
Act 1: Bay Cafe
We arrived at the bar and were surprised to see quite an "interesting" crowd. All of the roaming male hands indicated it was singles night. After several Captain and Cokes, Stephanie was feeling the urge to dance. When men would approach us, we led them to believe we were interested just to make our pathetic selves feel better. After several minutes though, the gig would always be up as we would scream obscenities at them and tell them what disgraces they were for being men. Hate drinking was going well. As the night progressed, and our vision blurried, Stephanie found herself a "charming" Mexican chap who asked for a dance. She stole his Yankees cap, and she seemed quite content to stumble around the dance floor for several minutes. While she was falling out of her shoes, I came across a group of gentlemen from Connecticut who had stopped in Baltimore for a baseball game during their road trip. One of them happened to be very attractive, so me being me I instantly forgot about hating men and went into Angela flirt mode. Stephanie realized she needed more refreshments, so she met up with me at the bar and struck up a convo with my boy's red headed companion. They flirted, they danced...... all seemed well until my cute boy informed me that red head had a girlfriend. This was NOT good news. I knew Stephanie was in a fragile state, but I couldn't let her be misled much longer. Hate drinking recommence. I gently told Steph about his situation, and this sent her into a drunken frenzy. Needless to say, their conversation ended, and she found her way back to the dancefloor, solo yet accompanied by Captain Morgan yet again.
Act 2: The Cab
Inevitably, 2am rolled around and it was time to leave the bar. As often happens to us, this is where it gets a little fuzzy. We all stumbled into the street. Before we realized what was happening, we were escorted into a cab with the Connecticut boys headed deeper into Baltimore City to an unknown destination. Stephanie sat shotgun and made small talk with the cab driver. It was at this point, that I started to come to and realize that these boys seemed concerned for our well-being and how we would be getting home. As I was admiring that these young gentlemen were not trying to rape us, we came to a stop sign, I heard Stephanie start screaming "STOP TALKING ABOUT ME" and she then bolted out of the cab, leaving me stranded with 3 male strangers. I remembered at this point that I had left my cell phone in the car and was unable to call her. I shouted for her to stop where she was, but she was on a mission. By the time I had this revelation, Stephanie was a good block away and counting. I pushed the boys out of my way and leaped from the cab to follow her. When I caught up to her, she was distraught and manic at best. She claimed that she heard us talking about her because she heard someone say the word "red", which in her state, obviously meant "Stephanie". I was still in shock that she would leave me in a cab with strangers at 2AM in a city I can hardly navigate, so what she was saying made even less sense to me. She yelled "I have places I can stay!" to which I responded, "Well what about me!?!?! Where am I supposed to stay?"
The boys exited the cab and ran over to make sure everything was alright, which it obviously was not. They were genuinely concerned, and offered to give us cab fare to get all of the way back to the county. Every time they suggested this, Stephanie would proceed to scream "I don't want your money! You leave me alone!". While hailing the cab for over a half hour, Stephanie insisted on maintaining at least a block of distance between us and the boys. In the meantime, Stephanie whipped out her phone and started acting very suspicious. She then began to cry and confess her actions. It turned out that part of the reason why she had jumped out of the cab was because we were passing the home of the boy who was the whole reason for her hate drinking. She had wanted to give him a piece of his mind for going to the beach that weekend. Somehow, she rationalized that he was with another girl , and began sending him hateful messages, the worst of which said "I hope she was worth it". This was absolutely out of nowhere, but hilarious in retrospect.
Act 3: The Long Journey Home
Eventually a cab came along, and the boys put us in it, and sent us on our way. Once back at our car, we somehow came to the conclusion that Stephanie should drive...... no idea why. All of Stephanie's crying and ranting put us in the mood for cheeseburgers. McDonald's has a fabulous late night menu after all, and Steph knows all the 24 hour spots (or so we thought). Much to our dismay, her "old reliable" Micky D's was closed! Already having it in our minds that we were going to feast on some delicious grease, we made our way to the next closest restaurant. But that one was closed, too! What's a hungry girl to do but make her way to the diner... In our new residence of White Marsh, we happened across a fairly nice diner that was close by. On our way, Steph commented on the numerous police cars driving by us, and wondered out loud if she was in a video game. Great, I thought. My driver thinks we're in a video game. As we pulled into the diner, we could NOT believe our eyes.... It TOO was closed. WTF! Seeing as there was no end in sight (and not cheeseburger either), I decided to man up and use the facilities (a.k.a. the parking lot), which is always an adventure. Waiting for just the right moment when no cars are in sight is a hard feat, especially on Pulaski Highway. Hungry, yet relieved, we made our way to the next McDonald's. Girlfriend was on a mission! Finally, we found our fast food Mecca. Hurray cheeseburgers!
Act 4: Holy Hangover
It's never fun to wake up in the morning and remember things that you regret from the past evening. On this day, truer words were never spoken for my friend. She came stumbling into my room, a sweaty, tear-stained mess, and threw her phone at me as if to say, "Just look..... look at what I've done". We had a giggle about her crazy behavior, and she swore off alcohol. Or at least hate drinking with an active cell phone. Lesson learned. Good night, and good luck!
Act 1: Bay Cafe
We arrived at the bar and were surprised to see quite an "interesting" crowd. All of the roaming male hands indicated it was singles night. After several Captain and Cokes, Stephanie was feeling the urge to dance. When men would approach us, we led them to believe we were interested just to make our pathetic selves feel better. After several minutes though, the gig would always be up as we would scream obscenities at them and tell them what disgraces they were for being men. Hate drinking was going well. As the night progressed, and our vision blurried, Stephanie found herself a "charming" Mexican chap who asked for a dance. She stole his Yankees cap, and she seemed quite content to stumble around the dance floor for several minutes. While she was falling out of her shoes, I came across a group of gentlemen from Connecticut who had stopped in Baltimore for a baseball game during their road trip. One of them happened to be very attractive, so me being me I instantly forgot about hating men and went into Angela flirt mode. Stephanie realized she needed more refreshments, so she met up with me at the bar and struck up a convo with my boy's red headed companion. They flirted, they danced...... all seemed well until my cute boy informed me that red head had a girlfriend. This was NOT good news. I knew Stephanie was in a fragile state, but I couldn't let her be misled much longer. Hate drinking recommence. I gently told Steph about his situation, and this sent her into a drunken frenzy. Needless to say, their conversation ended, and she found her way back to the dancefloor, solo yet accompanied by Captain Morgan yet again.
Act 2: The Cab
Inevitably, 2am rolled around and it was time to leave the bar. As often happens to us, this is where it gets a little fuzzy. We all stumbled into the street. Before we realized what was happening, we were escorted into a cab with the Connecticut boys headed deeper into Baltimore City to an unknown destination. Stephanie sat shotgun and made small talk with the cab driver. It was at this point, that I started to come to and realize that these boys seemed concerned for our well-being and how we would be getting home. As I was admiring that these young gentlemen were not trying to rape us, we came to a stop sign, I heard Stephanie start screaming "STOP TALKING ABOUT ME" and she then bolted out of the cab, leaving me stranded with 3 male strangers. I remembered at this point that I had left my cell phone in the car and was unable to call her. I shouted for her to stop where she was, but she was on a mission. By the time I had this revelation, Stephanie was a good block away and counting. I pushed the boys out of my way and leaped from the cab to follow her. When I caught up to her, she was distraught and manic at best. She claimed that she heard us talking about her because she heard someone say the word "red", which in her state, obviously meant "Stephanie". I was still in shock that she would leave me in a cab with strangers at 2AM in a city I can hardly navigate, so what she was saying made even less sense to me. She yelled "I have places I can stay!" to which I responded, "Well what about me!?!?! Where am I supposed to stay?"
The boys exited the cab and ran over to make sure everything was alright, which it obviously was not. They were genuinely concerned, and offered to give us cab fare to get all of the way back to the county. Every time they suggested this, Stephanie would proceed to scream "I don't want your money! You leave me alone!". While hailing the cab for over a half hour, Stephanie insisted on maintaining at least a block of distance between us and the boys. In the meantime, Stephanie whipped out her phone and started acting very suspicious. She then began to cry and confess her actions. It turned out that part of the reason why she had jumped out of the cab was because we were passing the home of the boy who was the whole reason for her hate drinking. She had wanted to give him a piece of his mind for going to the beach that weekend. Somehow, she rationalized that he was with another girl , and began sending him hateful messages, the worst of which said "I hope she was worth it". This was absolutely out of nowhere, but hilarious in retrospect.
Act 3: The Long Journey Home
Eventually a cab came along, and the boys put us in it, and sent us on our way. Once back at our car, we somehow came to the conclusion that Stephanie should drive...... no idea why. All of Stephanie's crying and ranting put us in the mood for cheeseburgers. McDonald's has a fabulous late night menu after all, and Steph knows all the 24 hour spots (or so we thought). Much to our dismay, her "old reliable" Micky D's was closed! Already having it in our minds that we were going to feast on some delicious grease, we made our way to the next closest restaurant. But that one was closed, too! What's a hungry girl to do but make her way to the diner... In our new residence of White Marsh, we happened across a fairly nice diner that was close by. On our way, Steph commented on the numerous police cars driving by us, and wondered out loud if she was in a video game. Great, I thought. My driver thinks we're in a video game. As we pulled into the diner, we could NOT believe our eyes.... It TOO was closed. WTF! Seeing as there was no end in sight (and not cheeseburger either), I decided to man up and use the facilities (a.k.a. the parking lot), which is always an adventure. Waiting for just the right moment when no cars are in sight is a hard feat, especially on Pulaski Highway. Hungry, yet relieved, we made our way to the next McDonald's. Girlfriend was on a mission! Finally, we found our fast food Mecca. Hurray cheeseburgers!
Act 4: Holy Hangover
It's never fun to wake up in the morning and remember things that you regret from the past evening. On this day, truer words were never spoken for my friend. She came stumbling into my room, a sweaty, tear-stained mess, and threw her phone at me as if to say, "Just look..... look at what I've done". We had a giggle about her crazy behavior, and she swore off alcohol. Or at least hate drinking with an active cell phone. Lesson learned. Good night, and good luck!
Don't Call it a Comeback
we were out the other night, doing what we do best (getting boozed up on cheap brew.... and being fabulous, of course). it occurred to both of us that the strangest things happen when the two of us are together in a bar-type setting. we've pretty much seen it all/done it all. but oddly enough, events unfold around us that still shock the most desensitized.
therefore, the time has come for a blog that will rival that of any blog of 20-something party girls everywhere: we are teaming up to convey some of the craziest events of our lives, hopefully in an entertaining fashion. in essense, it's more of a way for the two of us to chronicle our stories (a.k.a. we can't even keep track anymore), but if people find it amusing when we tell the stories, an online avenue seemed only the next logical step.
get ready for it. it's going to be scrumtralescant.
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