Thursday, May 5, 2011

Cinco de Tequila

In honor of Cinco de Mayo, I'm going to share with you a little story about why my good friend doesn't drink tequila...any more.



Let us go back to sophomore year of college. It was a weekend (or it could have been any old night of the week. That didn't matter.) and we were going to have a little house party. Brad lived in a complex called High Pointe. The condo he lived in was 3 levels, kind of. Let me explain. When you open the front door, you are presented with a staircase. If you walk up the stairs, you're on the main level which consists of a living room, kitchen, and two bedrooms and bathrooms. To get to the third bed/bath, there's another set of stairs. This floor plan will come in handy later.

So, Brad had a few people over. Music was blaring. People were dancing. Drinks were being poured. Shots were being taken. Shots. Tequila shots. Brad had these special edition Ole Miss shot glasses that were really a shot and a half sized. (It is Ole Miss ladies and gents.) So friend decided she wanted tequila shots. Yes, shots. So she took two. She doesn't like people watching her take shots, so she turned around for each. When she turned back, Holly taunted her with a "I bet you won't take another". And she did. This continued until she had taken 8 of these shot-and-a-half-shots. That's 12 shots if you're bad at fractions. Friend was feeling good. And looking good, might I add. She was wearing a little red dress she borrowed from our friend Whitney and man...


Anyway, a large group (friend included) decided to go across the street to another house party. "Across the street" actually meant out of the complex, across the street into a subdivision, and across another street, but for story purposes, we'll just say "across the street". There were a lot of people at this house party. Friend was introducing herself to everyone (most of whom she already knew) by telling them words that rhymed with her name. She drank a beer and then sat down in a recliner. 


The next thing that happened looked kind of like this:


Old Faithful
She exploded. She threw up into the air and all over herself. All over that hot red dress. All in her hair. All over the recliner. Everywhere.


Toni took her into the hall bathroom to try to clean her up. Being the total mother/babysitter/savior she is, she apologized to the guys (who said "aww no big deal, someone peed on it last weekend), rounded up those of us who were ready to go back across the street, and took friend back to Brad's.


Toni had to carry her up the first flight of stairs. When we all walked in, Brad could do nothing but laugh. He probably muttered an "I told you so", too. Toni ran a bath and told friend to strip down and get in. Friend, who always insists she can "do it myself" when she's drunk, insisted just that. Toni came back to check on her when she said she was done. Her hair wasn't even wet. She had just splashed around in the water for 10 minutes. When she tried to get out, Toni held her down and washed her hair for her. Finally, she was handed some shorts and a tshirt (which she put on backwards) and was told to get in bed upstairs.


Not happening. Toni had to carry her up the other set of stairs to the bedroom and put her in bed. When they reached the top of the stairs, she flailed a little and Toni dropped her. Nice.




And that my friends, is why friend...okay, who am I kidding? I...that is why I never drink tequila.





I woke up the next morning with limited memory and a pounding headache. Luckily, my friends tell the story so vividly (and so often) that I feel like I was there...mentally.



Just so I don't feel too bad about myself, another friend of ours (male friend) not only peed in the floor that night...he also peed in the sink. Thank you.




Do you stay away from certain drinks once you've had a bad experience? 

(I also don't drink J├Ąger, vodka tonic, rumplemintz, etc..... I might run out soon.)

2 comments:

  1. That is quite possibly the funniest story I have ever heard. Happy Cinco de Mayo!

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  2. Oh how I LOVE this story. You forgot to add what Dylan asked you after I made him go upstairs to get in bed with you. Bahaha

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