And by that I mean...
Sup Bitches?
Perhaps I should have started with that...
Yesterday was my 21st birthday and I ... am a ridiculous light weight. Oh let me count the ways that last night was a plethora of silly decisions.
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| Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father: prepare to die. |
After work my amazing friend Laura did the honors and got me my very first legal drink. SAKE BOMBS.
Now this was just beautiful. The little Japanese woman almost broke her hand trying to get my sake shot to fall into the delicious beer, the name of which I cannot remember.
The table was too sturdy... her hand was so frail.
I decided to try ... and almost broke my hand. Damn you hard ass table!
I made a karate punching noise and everything all to no avail. That damn shot would NOT fall. So I just moved the chop sticks and BOOM! Beer fizzled errrrwhere but SUCCESS it was delicious.
5:15 rounded the corner faster than I was prepared for. I had to go to dinner with my family at 6:00 so Laura and I left and I was off to eat and drink some more.
At this pace I thought I was doing pretty good. I felt ok. Maybe a little bit sway-like but nothing I couldn't handle.
Ohhhhh the naivety.
I got home around 5:30 and was immediately squeezed into the tightest dress ever. My mom had the wonderful idea that she would choose my birthday outfit. The dress was adorable but I could not breathe.
Side note: I don't know how to wear dresses. I feel like I flash everyone. Sorry world... I always wear real underwear though... none of that thong bullshit. No thank you NO SIR!
In my quest to not bend over or move for that matter my parents decorated me like a christmas tree with light up glowy things and... a tiara. Damnation. If it's one thing I hate more than ANYTHING it's tiaras. I'm not a princess. I hate being called a girl. Don't ask me why.... I don't even know.
Anyways off to the mexican restaurant we went to meet the strongest margarita I've had. Ever. I fear for my life when my dad starts speaking spanish to the waiter and I feel like I know what he's saying. Muy and mas should not be used in any sentence having to do with my drink.
This is where I begin to mess up.
I had the distinct need to not drink this margarita but peer pressure got to me and that only happens when my sister is around. She's just so convincing! When she's whisper forcing me to drink! drink! drink! I have no choice but to drink. She's just so persuasive.
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| Soooo gold |
Off to JANIE'S.
Bars are very quiet on monday.
We did a round of patron which my mom was absolutely terrible at. Tequila is her no go.
Everyone has a no go. I can't drink screwdrivers or orange juice anymore because of an unfortunate game of alcohol pong I once played many unspeakable years ago. She can't do tequila so her shot by default went to me. Once again my sister and her whisper forcing screaming shot! shot! shot! so that one went down. LIKE A CHAMP.
I'm duuuhhrrunk by this point already. We decided to hit up another bar. Mac's.
My parents are frequents there. They know the staff and they're very friendly with everyone.
Birthday shot!
"I think I'm going to throw up" was my thought at the moment. That was pretty bad. It was like caramel took a shit in my mouth. Never again.
As all of this is happening and I'm beginning to get really chocolate wasted my sister has the idea that I need "practice ass"... which is just silly. I needed a bucket and tylenol, not some dude.
Alas she's just so convincing.
We go up to the bar and my parent's lovely friend A. buys me a Hawaiian Punch shot. Omnom that was delicious. So delicious I almost threw up right there! Just kidding. So by this point I've had
Sake Bombs
1 FML Margarita
2 Patron Shots
1 Birthday Shot
1 Hawaiian Punch Shot.
All within a few short hours.
My sister is still on her practice ass train and I just want to drink some water. Nice bartender is slowly making this water thing happen for me and my sister sits me next to 4 dudes at the bar. Now damn. I was drunk so forgive me popular guy I used to go to high school with... my wits were not with me but I vaguely remember having a pleasant conversation with a few of them after my sister told them to WATCH ME while she left to ... grab... something. Drunk me is stupid... and happy. But no matter what day it is or how drunk I am I'm still super shy. I will not talk to a man, boy, feather unless I'm comfortable with them.
But I was comfortable with everyone last night so a conversation happened.
Don't think my sister is just leaving me with some serial killer rapist who can take advantage. My family was literally 10 feet away from me. I was more than safe throughout this entire night. Plus my scream pierces through the toughest stains...
I say adios to the nice dudes and head back to my parents table because my sister was about to leave and go home to her behbeh.
My parents leave with me at 8:30 with my last words being "I don't feel good. hahahahahahahahahaha." *Shakes head* don't hate on me. I'm an all around LIGHT WEIGHT.
Driving home, all I want is my bed. I close my eyes for a second, open them and we're home. Thank you baby heysoos. You're my favorite.
I will not throw up. I refuse to throw up. Vomit free since '93! Just kidding. Vomit free since 2011.
I'm laying down in bed, the room is spinning. I was on the roller coaster ride from hell. This thing was out with a vengeance and I'm still unaware as to why NO ONE took my phone away from me. Drunk texting is not cool. But I do it. Luckily the stupid stopped at 8:52 when I passed the fuck out. Sorry 3 friends I texted with things like "Weeee I'm so drunk." "COME GIVE ME A HUG." "I'm.... Far too drunk." Grammar points for me.
I had a wonderful vomit free 21st birthday. It was damn awesome. This Saturday I'm supposed to go to another bar! Weee for drunk me. Just ignore any text messages I send you please.
1 comments:
You forgot to include the part about not being about to get out of the too tight dress by yourself, and having the closet door hold you up. Ha Ha! You are super hilarious when you're drinking though. Thanks for doing my shot of Patron - would hate for something like that to go to waste. Ready for another margarita made by Javier? Love, You Know Who!
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