After the recent popularity of the most embarrassing bathroom story, I thought I would follow that with a funny drunk story. Now I am sure we all have a funny drunk story to tell. I do believe one of my personal favorites of mine would be my Cinco De Mayo story. I believe to this very day, I still get ragged on for this night. But hey its all good. If it had happened to someone else, I probably would be riding them like 2009 Kentucky Derby winner “Mine That Bird”. So please allow me to preface the story by saying that eating before a night of drinking is highly recommended.
So our story begins with a man’s need for refreshment on a holiday that is really another excuse for getting hammered. Cinco De Mayo was that very holiday. A holiday where everybody celebrates their Mexican heritage. Nobody cares if you don’t have an ounce of Mexicano in you. On Cinco De Mayo you become .01% Mexican. On this festive day everybody has the need to drink Coronas, Margaritas, Dos Equis, or Tequila. But let me stop right here and say that Tequila and I have never been the best of friends. As a matter of fact on several occasions I find myself getting my ass handed to me thanks to Patron or Jose Cuervo. But my dumbass always finds a way to consume Tequila. Perhaps the reason why is I want to avoid being a victim of male peer pressure. Every guy in the world knows exactly what I am talking about. You get that one in the group that orders shots for everybody. At the same time you have that one guy that tries to hide whenever the shots are being ordered. Whenever its time to get down and dirty, the one guy refuses to take his shot. As soon as this happens here comes the name calling. Throughout this ageless tradition it isn’t uncommon to hear terms of endearment like… “Pussy”, “Vagina”, “Lil Bitch”, “Sandy Vagina”, “Chicken Shit” and more! With your manhood on the line it is very hard to turn down. Remember this because this is a key part to the plot of my story. So the party begins as always at the home of the RonTourage. We have a few pre party drinks in our system before we hit the downtown scene. Please keep in mind that at this point, my stomach consists of McDonalds breakfast and a sandwich for lunch. It was about 5 or 6 when we departed the compound and trekked to downtown Orlando. Before arriving at our final destination, I feel good. I feel like tonight will be a good night one where I don’t end up puking. Boy was I wrong. We pull up to the plaza only to find swarms of people at the bars. I mean a ton of people were there. All decked out in sombreros and booze of some sort in their hands. After maneuvering through the sea of people, I was able to order a drink from the bar. Now remember that side story about male peer pressure? Well here is where it started. Out of nowhere, I am presented with a glass filled with the devil. I held in my hands the key to the outcome of my night. After several failed attempts to pass my shot off, my ears started to hear the jabs in the background. For some reason one stood out more to me than any other. When I heard that someone said that they can see my clit, I thought to myself that I’ll show them I am not a pussy! BIG MISTAKE!!! What started with one shot ended up being 3 or 4. After pounding those shots my cup started to feel light. So I waited in line that seemed like the line you see at womens bathrooms at concerts. When I finally reached the front, I thought that it was smart to order two drinks so I wouldn’t have to wait in that long ass line. Another BIG MISTAKE!! Now please remember that whatever food I had in my stomach had already been absorbed by the shots. After 2 more rounds of double fisting, the leader of the pack decides its time to head out to eat. Boy am I feeling it at this point. I am stumbling over my words and talking to people in what I believe to be Spanish but comes out as jibberish. Also for some strange reason, I am singing La Bamba like I know all the words. So my amigos grab me and guide me to the exit where we begin hoofing it for food. After walking a few blocks I look at the marquee of the restaurant and see 4 letters. With my clouded vision I make out a K followed by an R, E, and S. For those people that have trouble spelling that spells KRES. Now if you do not know what KRES is then let me tell you. KRES is a fancy steakhouse that is in downtown Orlando. So we arrive and the inside of the restaurant is frigging dark. For a moment I thought I had been walking with my eyes closed or something. The hostess brings us to our table and everybody grabs a seat. I proceed to plop into my chair and prop my head up with my hands. The waiter comes up and asks if anybody would like a cocktail. My stomach decided to bubble up like a witches cauldron. You ever have that moment where you get extremely sick whenever you hear things that you don’t need anymore of? Well that was my moment. After passing on drinks, I feel the “spins” coming on. Now most of us that have been drunk know that there is no coming back after the “spins”. Unless of course you start eating a ton of food to help absorb the booze. The waiter comes back and is ready to take our orders. I think I had closed one eye and just pointed at an item on the menu. Luckily for me it happened to be a steak. One of my friends took the liberty of ordering me some soup to help start the absorption process. Meanwhile another friend thought it was funny to point out how pale I looked. Me of all people was apparently paler than the white cloth napkins they give you at restaurants. I noticed that with each passing second my face started to sink lower and lower until I was resting it on the table. When all of a sudden my soup had arrived and I received a nudge from my neighbor next to me. Now I didn’t hear what kind of soup it was that had been ordered for me but when it arrived I immediately knew. It was lobster bisque. Apparently it was one of the few soups on the menu. I took a couple of spoonfuls and was done. The throw up switch had been flipped to its on position. I don’t know about you but I have one of those internal switches where I know its about to go down. So I raise up from the table and start speed walking to the bathroom. I manage to secure a stall and immediately hit the full throwing up position. With my knees on the ground and hands outstretched towards the toiler flusher. After a couple solid vomits consisting of the little food I ate, I was relieved. Now some people get up and rally. Not me. I get sleepy after I vomit. So I decided to prop myself up against the toilet and stretch out my legs a bit. After what seemed like a few minutes of laying there I hear someone calling my name. I am startled awake and look at the shoes standing outside of the urinal. I recognized immediately who it was. It happened to be one of my buddies from the table. After realizing that I locked the door and was too stupid to unlock it. I just crawled under the space between the divider and the floor. I went back to the table and asked that my order be cancelled. I didn’t want to waste an expensive steak. After canceling my order I went back and fell asleep. Only to dream about the sequence of events that transpired that night. And that my friends is one of my drunkest tales ever. Until this day, I still get ragged on for this moment.
Now I ask that you share your best drunk moment! Also please do not forget to use the ranking system with each post. Coming up on the next edition of Man Behind the Clouds.. Why I Hate Rest/Service Stops!