Being Dumb is Fun Sometimes

"Life is tough, but it's tougher when you're stupid." ~ John Wayne (American Film Actor)

Sometimes, I like to do dumb things....particularly during the over consumption of alcohol. I don't know how to consume alcohol in any other way then what falls into the overly excessive category. It's not that I drink frequently but when I do, it can get messy - or rowdy, which is the adjective I prefer to use.

This past weekend, which also happened to be Canada Day, I traveled home for four days to see the man I am dating. I have briefly met his family once....and I mean brief, as it was a ten minute introduction. This weekend we decided to spend our Canada Day at his Dad's annual party, which involves a lot of alcohol and BBQ. Given that I don't eat meat, it only involved a lot of alcohol for me (dumb decision #1). After arriving and feeling out my environment for about five to six seconds, I started pounding what my boyfriend calls "Bloody Jamie's" (his name is Jamie) into me at a pace that would make most Olympic runners envious. After about seven of those, I was "dragged" into a shed full of women I did not know (which was weird but funny) where I was "forced" into doing numerous shots of some delicious but unknown liquor. As I stumbled out of the shed I noticed some people wandering off to a different part of the property and felt the need to investigate, only to stumble upon some peaceful potheads smoking a joint (something I gave up eight months ago). In a flash of brilliant decision making, I decided that smoking a joint was a fabulous idea (dumb decision #2) so I indulged. The drinks continued, a merry time ensued.

At some point, I found myself laying on the lawn. I'm not quite sure how this happened or what came right before laying on the lawn, but, that's where I was. My boyfriend's Dad came to join me on the lawn for what I'm sure he expected to be genius conversation and to be completely honest, I have absolutely zero idea what we talked about. None. I'm going to tell myself it was witty but we all know that's inaccurate. It was approximately 9pm when the lawn-laying debacle occurred. And between the merry time ensuing and the lawn-laying debacle, there was at least two more joints (dumb decision #3 & 4).

I then made the decision that my boyfriend and I should venture out to another party around 10pm. After three liquor runs back to his place to get more "Bloody Jamie" ingredients, it was time to go. I have absolutely no recollection of how we got from his Dad's place to his best friend's place (who I've also only met once) but I know neither of us was driving...so, that's a good thing. I brought a bottle of wine with me because wine is awesome to start drinking when you are already plowed from drinking vodka drinks all evening on a totally empty stomach. I believe it took me about an hour to drink 3/4 of the bottle of wine (dumb decision #5), which is when the idea of food popped into my hazy, liquor saturated, bad decision making brain. On the menu: hot dogs. Now, I don't eat meat and I don't eat bread (gluten) but the combination of these two things suddenly seemed very appealing to me. "I'll have two" (dumb decision #6 & 7). For some reason, I clearly recall not being able to get the ketchup from the bottle onto the hot dogs but rather got the ketchup over the entire bun of the hot dog instead (it's a mystery that shall never be solved). This did not stop me, although it should have served as a clear indication that hot dog eating was not in my best interests.

I have no idea how much time passed between the hot dog eating and the behind-a-hedge-barfing but I am guesstimating it was about 30 minutes. Was it the Blood Jamie's, the joints, the wine, the hot dogs....who the fuck knows? All I know is that I felt much better after it happened. And then my man had to drag my drunk ass home and put me to bed, which he did without complaining.

I woke up the next morning feeling like a hot dog truck had run me over and yet I thought to myself, I don't think I'm ever going to grow out of this "stage." Like, you know...mature past the point of doing these things. And I realized, I'm okay with that. Fuck it.

No comments:

Post a Comment