truth or dare, question #1
This question comes to us courtesy of Yuki…
I decided that I wanted to learn to smoke. (This was also my first time getting drunk.) I showed up at good old St. Olaf my freshman year and ran into Erika Henriksen, a girl I’d met during the summer at the Meet’n’Greet for those of us who’d managed to get these great academic scholarship things (which I promptly lost due to poor grades.) She wanted to know if I could go with her to a party in St. Paul that weekend, at the apartment of a friend of hers who was going to school at St. John’s.
We showed up and promptly hit the bottles - and, not knowing any better, I poured myself a whole glass of straight Peach Schnapps, which I had downed fifteen minutes later. I had no clue how the alcohol would affect me, so I just kept drinking it. This was followed by three full glasses of vodka and lemonade - there was no sugar in the house, so to combat the sheer nastiness which was unsweetened lemonade with vodka in it, we chugged it while sucking on lemon Life Savers. Shortly thereafter, I had two LARGE SoCo Sours … each one of these drinks filling a 20/24-oz tumbler. By this point, I’d been at the party for about an hour.
By the time I hit the two-hour mark, I was feeling better than I thought was possible … during the in-between time, we’d taken a walking tour of the campus (in the pitch darkness) and had narrowly avoided staggering into several moving cop cars. Once we got back, I saw this girl smoking and asked her to teach me, since it seemed like the next obvious step in the sequence of total debauchery my college existence was turning into. Some really trashed guy in the living room yelled something to the effect of “Fucking A! Here you go, take these! Welcome to the Smoker’s Club!” and tossed me an unopened pack of Marlboro Menthol Lights, which I smoked ALL of in the next two hours.
I learned (and later forgot, of course) how to french inhale, how to blow smoke rings, how to fall asleep on a couch with a lit cigarette in my hand, and how to crawl to the bathroom when you can no longer stand. I threw up violently for five solid hours, all the while listening to Erika and her friends singing and playing guitar in the living room. In the morning, we woke up and ate chocolate donettes and drove back to campus. Six years of Menthol-smoking later, I still can’t stand even the scent of anything synthetic peach-flavored. (You can never tell which things are going to stick.)
Well, for B’s sake if nothing else, I’m glad nothing too important was damaged. ;)
you mean
you want her name?
hah - of course I want her name. Otherwise it wouldn’t be so much fun for me, would it?
it’s a tossup between proposing and post-divorce throwing myself at the Ex. really, me, alcohol, and boys should be kept in separate states. and girls, too, now that I think about it. I may be the exception to the never-drink-alone rule.
Nah, you still shouldn’t drink alone. You should drink WITH others, maybe while bound and gagged. ;) Actually, you should drink with ME, and then we can keep each other from doing stupid stuff.
It’s really hard to pick the _stupidest_ thing I’ve ever done drunk…. hmmm… talking to my RA at IMSA with a drink in my hand… smoked weed for the first time drunk (but I also watch ace ventura pet detective that night and I’m not sure which was more stupid)… tried to play scrabble one night and couldn’t understand why pebomb wasn’t a word…
now, if you’re talking silliest, that’s another thing entirely. oh, now I’m homesick for carleton.
ohhh, silliest. Yeah. That’s a different question entirely.
God, I can’t deal with Peach Schnapps either. Though by now it’s probably has more to do with realizing how NASTY it is, than an involuntary nausea.
Drinking half a fifth of Stolichnaya Cristal in the space of about 10-20 minutes was a perfectly enjoyable experience, except for the part where it dulled my judgment enough to allow me to be convinced to drink 1/3 or so of a bottle of Peach Schnapps out of “fairness”. Ouch, that did not go over well.
There was the time I stole a box of fortune cookies from the campus chinese food cart and walking around with them the entire evening. Or how about when me and Kris tried to get his cat to drink whiskey. Other than that, I can’t think of much, so either the stupid moments are lost to the hazy, alcohol-soaked recesses of my mind, or I have an inhuman ability to retain some semblance of control when drunk…
One thing that just came back from those alcohol-soaked recesses…
I send the stupidest, most embarassing e-mails when drunk. Mainly to people I regret sending them to the next morning. To the point that I have learned to never touch e-mail when drinking. Don’t drink and hard drive folks!
You /were/ pretty toasted that night Mike. (=
I think the stupidest thing I ended up doing while drunk was getting it in my head that I absolutely had to feed a friend’s fish that night lest they die of starvation. Thankfully, that was actually accomplished successfully. Making it home without making an offering to the city sewer system…not so successful.
I also have a tendency to send REALLY EMBARASSING emails when I’m toasted.
luckily, the people to whom they usually go are used to getting them, and laugh it off well.
punching my friend in the arm, then having him do the same back to me, over and over again, in an attempt to get a girl to notice me
god, the bruises were spectacularly painful AND colorful
Most ill-advised thing I ever did was go watch “Life Is Beautiful” while intoxicated. (Yes, Roberto Benigni is funny, but apparently I found the whole movie funny.) I also apparently nearly got myself hit by a cab that same evening. I don’t believe that, though. The cab was miles away.
Not much else. I don’t do stupid. In general. Yes, I’m boring.
hrmmm
i don’t think i have any drunken hookups, now that i think about it
i was sober every time
how odd…
hrmmm
i never really did anything stupid while drunken
but i did do a lot of stupid drinking
like the night frosh year
when second nourse had a progressive
and i consumed COOKIE SHEETS of jello shots
yeah
i was counting shots in terms of how many cookie sheets i consumed
and that’s only half of what i drank that night
i was drunk for 36 hours
and in the process
was too drunk to realize that the hottest woman i knew, at the time
was hitting on me
dumb, dumb, dumb
hey, who’s our anonymous friend who likes being punched?
sorry, that was me :) friend of vince’s, I like reading here and felt like contributing
none of you know me unless you read my blog or heard vince talk about me
Eeexcellent. Welcome over!
20th birthday. We are in Canada at a bar that serves the transvestite community Saturday thru Thursday, and is a rock club on Friday. So it’s friday and there’s a punk rock band dressed in tattoos and underpants on stage, and this huge, huge guy keeps moshing in a crowd of people who obviously do not want to be moshing. The second time he makes me spill my 9th scarlett o hara on my shoe, I grab him by the collar (which is 2 feet above my head) pull him down to earshot and scream “Will You Motherfucking Stop Motherfucking Jumping Motherfucking Around Please?” and then I pushed him and he fell. He was way too drunk to kick my ass, but some punk rock kid came over to me and said “That was astoundingly badass for a girl dressed all in pink.” While you would think this is the stupid part, no. The stupid part is that you can buy 2 slices of pizza in canda for, like, 12 cents. After all the sweet liqour and the miniscule badassness, I got really sick. I blame the canadians.
the end.
Sending embarassing emails when drunk is just par for the course. We all do it. Jim Wong sends beautiful ones to Joe, who then posts them on notefiles.
In terms of being totally toasted, I think the worst one for me (at least in my current life-mode) is the night I woke my older daughter up because I was cursing the spirit of my father (this I remember) and singing along — loudly — with Pink Floyd (this I do not remember). I remember thinking that nobody should have been awoken because, after all, I was blasting Pink Floyd *with headphones on*.
After being confronted with this (at 3am-ish), I threw back three shots of tequila on top of everything else, and then I don’t remember much after that.
I do remember the teens walking out the door several hours later to go to school, looking at me lying on the living room floor with an empty bottle of scotch next me (shh, my one transgression!), saying, “Dude, you’re fucked up.” My wife got home at about the same time. She wasn’t amused.
Then I threw up from alcohol for the first time in my life.
… of course, my speech at Michael Peil’s wedding might outrank that. I’m still pretty embarrased by that.
I tried to prove that I could leap down an entire flight of stairs in Currier House. I did it, of course, but ever after I would pass those stairs and think that I was fucking insane. Because I was.