February 12, 2015

The Time I Couldn't Get Drunk...Until I Did

This one time....

I got so drunk I thought I was going to die of alcohol poisoning.

No joke, you guys.

Well, I mean, I wasn't seriously so drunk I could have died from alcohol poisoning. Buuuuttt....I was very young and naive, so I thought I was.

Let me also add, that I knew someone who did die of alcohol poisoning a few years prior, and I guess that traumatized me more than I knew at the time.

OK so, here's the silly story:

It was like 1995-97, somewhere in there. Probably can't remember exactly because I was drunk.

I was no more than 21 or 22.

I know I was with my husband when he was still my boyfriend, where we lived (our first apartment together) and who we went out with (a friend of his).

Mark's friend came for a weekend visit and the three of us went out to dinner on Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco.

I ordered a creamy, garlicy seafood pasta dish which I washed down with a couple of Long Island iced teas.

And felt nothing. Except full.

We drove back over to the East Bay and went to this one bar near our apartment. I can't remember the name of it, but it was this little dive with velvet wallpaper, in the shopping center, of all places.

I proceeded to drink a couple more Long Islands. Now, these are one of the strongest cocktails one can get, right?

I still didn't feel even buzzed. Well, I mean, maybe ever so slightly.

When you're out for a good time with people you trust, you want to feel the effects of the alcohol. Amiright?

I switched to White Russians. Love me some Kahlua!

Except they're kind of small, so you know, takes more.

We talked and I drank. Finally I was starting to feel some warm fuzzies and head changes.

I needed to pee (ya think?) so I got up and made my way to the restroom, realizing on the way there that the alcohol was indeed getting into my system.

But it was fiiiinnne. All good. S'rsly.

So I ordered another drink when I got back to our table.

And probably another.

Until the guys decided they wanted to leave, grab some munchies at the grocery store and head back to our apartment.

By this time I was hammered, so I opted to wait in the car while they went into the store.

Aside: Mark's friend was driving. He wasn't drinking much because of the driving, so it was OK. I have never been a driver, so I always drink however much I want.

As I sat in the back seat of the car, I got drunker and drunker. It became difficult for me to remember where I was and what I was doing.

I was still OK, though, except that it took them FOREVER to come back. I kept hearing people and carts go by, but it was never them.

Then I wasn't as OK and the next time I heard someone I faintly cried, "Marrrrrrrk?", out the cracked window.

Not Mark. I think I did that a few times before they returned. To this day I have no idea what those two were doing in that damn store for so long.

The ride home was a blur, as was stumbling into the living room and plopping my ass down on the couch.

The guys decided they wanted to smoke some....you know....leafy, green substance. Normally I don't mind the smell, but with all that alcohol churning in my stomach, I got queasy.

I went to the bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet, praying my little heart out that I wouldn't actually have to throw up.

Nothing happened and I eventually got up and sat on the edge of the bathtub. The room was spinning and I began to panic.

Mark came to check on me. I pathetically whimpered at him, "Am I too drunk? Am I gonna die of alcohol poisoning? What if I drank too much?"

He chuckled and said, "You're fine, you haven't even puked yet." And then, "C'mon, let's just get you to bed."

I continued to fret as he helped me get into bed, "But what if I diiiieee?"

"You're not gonna die", he said. "Now go to sleep."

I did not die, but woke up with a raging headache and the queasy tummy I went to bed with. The guys insisted I had to eat real breakfast food and dragged my hungover ass out the door.

I managed to choke down some food, and wouldn't ya know it? It made me feel better.


I mean, there was my bachelorette party.....and this one bottle of wine at a summer BBQ....but I swear, other than that.....NEVER AGAIN!

I decided to tell this story for the Finish the Sentence Friday prompt: "This one time...", which I suggested. And lookie here, you can link up with me and the others!

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