I'll never over-drink again!

And I'll never look at women as sex objects again. I mean it this time!

Ha, making promises you can't keep is fun. So how many drinkie-poos did you have last night, anyway?

drinkie-poos.

I had 2 quite strong and deeeee-licious pina coladas myself last night. Whipped them up in the blender. I like the Stirrings mix. Looking forward to trying their Bloody Mary mix once the weather cools.

How about you kicky. What did you drink last night?

I didn't drink last night. Unless you count the ten-gallon-sized Coke I got at the movies that I drank within the first half-hour of the movie. I'm pretty sure I didn't have as wild a time as Marty and you, but I did have to urinate a couple times during the movie. I will never drink a ten-gallon-sized Coke again. I mean it this time!

The first time I pledged not to overdrink, although I think the term then was get smashed, was in February 1967. I remember it clearly, the pledge taking, though not much of the night before, because of where I was when I spoke the words.

The night before had been my last night in Boston before I was to go home to Manchester, Connecticut, spend two days with my parents and then head to San Antonio, Texas for US Air Force Basic Training. My friends were all very emotional about my leaving which is the way I like it. I like people to really hold onto shirtsleeves as I try to leave imploring me "for one more day to stay."

I got incredibly drunk. I got incredibly sick. I made my friend Richard's bathroom a toxic area. (I think it was the Chinese food and the cheap Gin. They sobered me up a little and then I got incredibly drunk again.

I was supposed to meet this guy from my hometown in front of the BPL (Boston Public Library) at 9:00 AM sharp for a ride home. When I woke up in somebody's bed, I still don't know whose apartment I was in, it wasn't Richard's. The place was empty and the clock said 10:06.

This is how drunk I still was. I remember thinking maybe he is still waiting and if I run to the BPL I will be able to get him to take me to my apartment where my suitcase and backpack are waiting and ready. I left a note thanking whoever for the night's sleep. (I don't remember there being anything else but sleep.) I ran outside.

I was on Brimmer Street in the Back Bay. I took off running.

I am going to skip ahead here. He, I don't remember his name anymore, that's sad, was not waiting at the BPL. I went to my apartment, said goodbye to Paul and Tony and Lucky who were my roommates, got my stuff and headed back to Copley Square to try to hitch a ride to Connecticut.

Four hours later, I took the pledge.

I was standing in the snow on the side of the Massachusetts Turnpike. I had been thrown off the tollgates by this skinny, stupid, baby-blue suited sh-thead of a cop who didn't believe this long haired pinko-looking, red-eyed freako was trying to get to Connecticut in order to go fight the fucgging Viet Nam War. So I had to drag my suitcase and my backpack and me through about a mile of woods and mud and snow just to get to a place actually ON the Turnpike so I could hold up my sign which said HARTFORD.

I was exhausted and sick, homesick for Boston already, with a hangover headache that felt like someone had put a big hose clamp around my skull and was tightening it with a hammer.

"I will never get that drunk again." I said as it began to get dark and no one looked like they were going to stop.


Joe(I have not kept that pledge and that has let to many roads.)Nation

I have been utterly sick a number of times, but always had the foresight to refrain from making the pledge.

The Five Stages of Drinking

LEVEL 1:

It's 11:00 on a weeknight, you've had a few beers. You get up to leave because you have work the next day and one of your friends buys another round. One of your UNEMPLOYED friends. Here at level one you think to yourself, "Oh come on, this is silly, why as long as I get seven hours of sleep (snap fingers), I'm cool.".

LEVEL 2:

It's midnight. You've had a few more beers. You've just spent 20 minutes arguing against artificial turf. You get up to leave again, but at level two, a little devil appears on your shoulder. And now you're thinking, "Hey! I'm out with my friends! What am I working for anyway? These are the good times! Besides, as long as I get five hours sleep (snaps fingers) I'm cool.".

LEVEL 3:

One in the morning. You've abandoned beer for tequila. You've just spent 20 minutes arguing FOR artificial turf. And now you're thinking, "Our waitress is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen!" At level three, you love the world. On the way to the bathroom you buy a drink for the stranger at the end of the bar just because you like his face. You get drinking fantasies. (like,"Hey fellas, if we bought our own bar, we could live together forever. We could do it. Tommy, you could cook.") But at level three, that devil is a little bit bigger....and he's buying. And you're thinking "Oh, come on, come on now. As long as I get three hours sleep...and a complete change of blood (snaps fingers), I'm cool.".

LEVEL 4:

Two in the morning. And the devil is bartending. For last call, you ordered a bottle of rum and a Coke. You ARE artificial turf! This time on your way to the bathroom, you punch the stranger at the end of the bar. Just because you don't like his face! And now you're thinking, "Our busboy is the best looking man I've ever seen." You and your friends decide to leave, right after you get thrown out, and one of you knows an ...after hours bar. And here, at level four, you actually think to yourself, "Well....as long as I'm only going to get a few hours sleep anyway, I may as well.... STAY UP ALL NIGHT!!!! Yeah! That'd be good for me. I don't mind going to that board meeting looking like Keith Richards. Yeah, I'll turn that around, make it work for me. And besides, as long as I get 31 hours sleep tomorrow ...................cool.

LEVEL 5:

Five in the morning. after unsuccessfully trying to get your money back at the tattoo parlor ("But I don't even know anybody named Ruby!!!"), you and your friends wind up across the state line in a bar with guys who have been in prison as recently as...that morning. It's the kind of place where even the devil is going, "Uh, I gotta turn in. I gotta be in Hell- at nine. I've got that brunch with Hitler, I can't miss that." At this point, you're all drinking some kind of thick blue liquor, like something from a Klingon wedding. A waitress with fresh stitches comes over, and you think to yourself, "Someday I'm gonna marry that girl!!" One of your friends stands up and screams, "WE'RE DRIVIN' TO FLORIDA!!!!!"- and passes out. You crawl outside for air , and then you hit the worst part of level five- the sun. You weren't expecting that were you? You never do. You walk out of a bar in daylight, and you see people on their way to work, or jogging. And they look at you-and they know. And they say..."Who's Ruby?" Let's be honest, if you're 19 and you stay up all night, it's like a victory like you've beat the night, but if you're over 30, then that sun is like God's flashlight. We all say the same prayer then, "I swear, I will never do this again (how long?) as long as I live!" And some of us have that little addition, "and this time, I mean it!"

I have not had a hangover in ten years, the trick is to drink only the good stuff.

If only I had thought of that.

Why didn't I only drink the good stuff?

We had a dinner sponsered by a medical product company. For about 20 people they had reserved $1000.00 worth of wine. The evening started out innocent enough, 1 gin and tonic prior to dinner. Then there was the wine, oooh it was good, maybe had 3 glasses but who's counting when the waiter is pouring while you're talking.

I believe the evening took a turn for the worst when I was invited to continue the conversation in the bar and a redbull and vodka was kindly placed in my hand. I do remember the cab ride to the club. Here's where the evening gets fuzzy. At that point I wasn't counting anything. Redbull and vodka...who ever thought of that crazy combo. I'm sure that's what did me in.

I didn't eat any solid food until 9pm yesterday. Today I attended a lovely wedding ceremony. I didn't even sip champagne with the toasts. So far I sticking to my plan.

And I can be pretty certain that although I thought I was charming, funny and delightful company I was actually a complete idiot!

Joe,

Your story sounds painful. But when you're that young I'm sure it didn't last as long as it would today. I used to be able to party like a rockstar. Now I don't know what I'd call it.

I had a friend who had the foresight to swear off drinking, but to swear off the particular form of alcahol he'd been drinking to excess.

I remember him saying:

I'll never drink tequila again.
I'll never drink beer again.
I'll never drink vodka again.
I'll never drink galliano again.

Great story Joe.

I took the pledge only once, while literally hugging the porcelain bowl, but never uttered the words again, no matter how sick.

I rarely have hangovers. Just the upchucking once or twice a year. Nasty.

Galliano. I'd forgotten about that...

I have a nifty scar on my forehead to speak for itself. It was a birthday present from me to myself for my 32nd birthday. Slappy was there, maybe he did it, cause I don't remember how I got the wound size of Montana on my forehead.

On my 19th birthday, my college buddies gave me the traditional (for us) Boilermaker (double shot of whisky dropped into a two-beer mug). When that didnt' faze me, they gave me a double shot of what they said was Schnapps.... wait.. that didn't taste like Schnapps....

After downing that Everclear, I headed out for my girlfriend's apartment, eager for a birthday everning of guilty pleasures of the flesh... according to her, I didn't show up for about three hours after I left my dorm. I then spent the night literally on the shitter, after puking up everything that could possibly go out that end.

I never drank Everclear again, nor will I.

djjd62: The Five Stages : brilliant writing.



Joe(loved it.)Nation

galliano, the dreaded HARVEY WALLBANGER. I seem to remember something , but only vaguely. Mercifully , memory has been dulled by the passing years.

That was great! Cracked me up!

A friend of mine told me - never do two of the following three things at the same time and you will never have a hang over.

1. drink too much
2. drink too fast
3. drink too late.

You can drink too much and too fast - just don't do it too late (past 9:00pm)

You can drink too fast and too late - just don't do too much.

you can do too late and too much...just don't do it too fast.

It has worked for me. Except I broke it a few weeks ago when I had too much, too late, too fast; I was sorry. But it was fun while I was doing it, just not so much the next morning.

Was it from the headboard? Where is that slapster anyway?