Party like it's 1999
It's not often that you're called to duty to drink for 12 hours straight, but Friday night that's just what I was asked to do. A little before six, T, Chelle and I headed down to the FQB for dinner...pulled pork for T and me and a Po' boy for Chelle. Mmm, my god do they have the best food in the entire world. With lots of fabulous food in our bellies we hung out at the FQB for a little (so that T could look at Tony [her ex] a little longer). after T got her fill of Tony (well, at least for a little) we moved up to thithwbar.
There we just acted like idiots, talking in Scottish accents, doing shots, playing Naked Photo Hunt (and critiquing the pictures). At some point while there we ran into Hot Ronnie and Favorite Bartender (Hot Ronnie's roommate), they were about as banged up as we were...well Favorite Bartender might've had us beat by say...15 beers. The boys invited us back and this time Ronnie really was supposed to play for us, since last time we all just ended up wandering around the house rather than have the promised sing-along. At the peak of our drunkeness in walked Tony and his friend John. We chatted with them for awhile and they agreed to go over to Hot Ronnie's too after the bar closed and actually gave us a ride over.
Ronnie did actually play and sing that night, however, not many people focused on Ronnie. This was because Favorite Bartender was sooo messed up. Typically, the most rational and calm one of the group it was surprising to see him do the following things. First, he decided for absolutely no known reason, to toss the barbeque that was sitting on the deck all harmless-like off onto the driveway below...this isn't a low deck, we were quite a ways up. Within seconds, neighbor's lights were going on...people were coming outside and I was running damage control while Favorite Bartender went down to inspect the damage that he had created. Ever had a drunk girl as your spin doctor? No? That's probably a good thing. I'm just going to leave it at that because I'm not even sure what I was saying to the neighbors to allay their fears that the sky was falling. But Favorite Bartender wasn't done, oh no.
We went into the basement and we were all happily listening to Ronnie, albeit Tony was doing it with a sneer...you see Tony's very punk rock and plays in about three punk bands and well Ronnie, plays Jack Johnson. So for some reason T, Tony, Favorite Bartender, John and I ended up out in the garage. Favorite Bartender for some reason decided to throw a gigantic can of paint thinner at the garage wall...you can imagine the stench...and you can imagine that no one, drunk or sober moved to clean it up. We all just went upstairs. Now there was panic. Hot Ronnie was pissed at Favorite Bartender and went to bed. Chelle and I helped clean up the upstairs. T, Tony and John left...Chelle and I were supposed to go with but Chelle wanted to stay and I didn't care either way where we went.
About 20 mins after they left we changed our minds. Everyone was worried about what JB (the boy who actually owns the house that Favorite Bartender and Hot Ronnie live in) was going to do when he got home from work at 3am...and um, JB has a license to carry...ha ha). So Chelle and I make a call to T to see if John will come back and pick us up. He agreed to (with a sigh or two) and there we waited. Picture this, Chelle and I sitting in the dark with the tv as our only light. I'm sitting on the corner of the couch that Favorite Bartender is sleeping on, there's some random boy sitting on the other couch and Chelle is sitting on the floor.
We see a car pull up and we run to it, open the door and it's JB looking at us like we're idiots. Instead of explaining anything, we shut the door and ran right back into his house. Soon after, our ride came. We gratefully hopped in the car and he was sweet enough to swing by my house to let my dog out and Chelle decided at 4am that she had had enough. She stayed in my guest room as I proceeded with John over to Tony's house.
Over at Tony's, T, John, Tony and I proceeded to stay up and talk, drink and bust on each other for hours. I remember finishing my last beer with the sun warming my face...because it was coming up! Finally, at around 9 am John brought T and I home and we crashed our little bodies on the couch, where I remained all of Saturday--because ladies and gentlemen...I'm not 21 anymore, but I sure did party like that.
There we just acted like idiots, talking in Scottish accents, doing shots, playing Naked Photo Hunt (and critiquing the pictures). At some point while there we ran into Hot Ronnie and Favorite Bartender (Hot Ronnie's roommate), they were about as banged up as we were...well Favorite Bartender might've had us beat by say...15 beers. The boys invited us back and this time Ronnie really was supposed to play for us, since last time we all just ended up wandering around the house rather than have the promised sing-along. At the peak of our drunkeness in walked Tony and his friend John. We chatted with them for awhile and they agreed to go over to Hot Ronnie's too after the bar closed and actually gave us a ride over.
Ronnie did actually play and sing that night, however, not many people focused on Ronnie. This was because Favorite Bartender was sooo messed up. Typically, the most rational and calm one of the group it was surprising to see him do the following things. First, he decided for absolutely no known reason, to toss the barbeque that was sitting on the deck all harmless-like off onto the driveway below...this isn't a low deck, we were quite a ways up. Within seconds, neighbor's lights were going on...people were coming outside and I was running damage control while Favorite Bartender went down to inspect the damage that he had created. Ever had a drunk girl as your spin doctor? No? That's probably a good thing. I'm just going to leave it at that because I'm not even sure what I was saying to the neighbors to allay their fears that the sky was falling. But Favorite Bartender wasn't done, oh no.
We went into the basement and we were all happily listening to Ronnie, albeit Tony was doing it with a sneer...you see Tony's very punk rock and plays in about three punk bands and well Ronnie, plays Jack Johnson. So for some reason T, Tony, Favorite Bartender, John and I ended up out in the garage. Favorite Bartender for some reason decided to throw a gigantic can of paint thinner at the garage wall...you can imagine the stench...and you can imagine that no one, drunk or sober moved to clean it up. We all just went upstairs. Now there was panic. Hot Ronnie was pissed at Favorite Bartender and went to bed. Chelle and I helped clean up the upstairs. T, Tony and John left...Chelle and I were supposed to go with but Chelle wanted to stay and I didn't care either way where we went.
About 20 mins after they left we changed our minds. Everyone was worried about what JB (the boy who actually owns the house that Favorite Bartender and Hot Ronnie live in) was going to do when he got home from work at 3am...and um, JB has a license to carry...ha ha). So Chelle and I make a call to T to see if John will come back and pick us up. He agreed to (with a sigh or two) and there we waited. Picture this, Chelle and I sitting in the dark with the tv as our only light. I'm sitting on the corner of the couch that Favorite Bartender is sleeping on, there's some random boy sitting on the other couch and Chelle is sitting on the floor.
We see a car pull up and we run to it, open the door and it's JB looking at us like we're idiots. Instead of explaining anything, we shut the door and ran right back into his house. Soon after, our ride came. We gratefully hopped in the car and he was sweet enough to swing by my house to let my dog out and Chelle decided at 4am that she had had enough. She stayed in my guest room as I proceeded with John over to Tony's house.
Over at Tony's, T, John, Tony and I proceeded to stay up and talk, drink and bust on each other for hours. I remember finishing my last beer with the sun warming my face...because it was coming up! Finally, at around 9 am John brought T and I home and we crashed our little bodies on the couch, where I remained all of Saturday--because ladies and gentlemen...I'm not 21 anymore, but I sure did party like that.
Labels: chelle, drunkening, john, tara
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