Can’t Lose for Winning

CITY OF CHAMPIONS – Nothing like old high school friends…Mark, Brian and I were all ready for post-Turkey celebrations. We meet in Milton and drive over to Mark’s apartment in Back Bay. At the apartment, we did some pre-drinking.

Brian tells us “Remember I have to work tomorrow afternoon. I can’t drink too much.”

 

Oh yeah…I forgot to mention that this is also Brian’s birthday.

 

Like we care…we’re going hard tonight. This only motivates Mark and I to get him really drunk! He’s going down!

 

The first stop was Daisy Buchanan’s. At the bar, Brian runs into a few friends (he always runs into people) Meanwhile, Mark I noticed that a Bacardi promo was going down.

So Bacardi was giving out free t-shirts. But they just didn’t give them out. You had to do something. Hey…why not? So the girl has a cardboard cutout of a Bacardi Limon bottle. I had to wear it on both sides and collect 20 signatures. No problem…10 minutes later I had the signatures and Mark and I had new t-shirts. We were really excited.

They weren’t the run of the mill regular white t-shirt. It was a high quality garment. (trust me…you’ll be hearing about the t-shirts again later)

We found Brian and he was already a few shots in. Time for a change of pace…we decided we’d head over to…(well perhaps I should keep the bar name as an unknown)

 

We arrive around 10:00. Things are just picking up. I start a bar tab.

We all do a few shots. I decided to scout the dance floor. Meanwhile Mark decides that he can’t let Brian drink alone. He decides he’ll go shot-to-shot with Brian until they reach an acceptable double digit number. I think we’re on 8 or 9 at this point. I let them do their thing. I just grab a beer and head on off. I run into a girl I went to high school with. She was a year or 2 below me. We decide to do a little dancing. Time starts to fly. Next thing I know its midnight and Mark and Brian haven’t moved from the bar. I go over to talk to them.

All Brian can talk about is getting home so he can work. He needs to get to Milton. But we made a plan earlier that we’d sleep at Mark’s since his car is at his apartment.

Next thing you know…Brian runs out of the bar and starts hailing cabs. Mark and I chase after him. But when we reach the front door, I’m stopped by bouncers. They think I’m trying to skip on my tab. I tell them my friend is leaving and I’m just trying to catch him. But they won’t let me go. I’m physically carried back to the bar and they make me sign out my tab. While I’m “distracting” the bouncers, Mark is able to go outside and find Brian. I close my tab without leaving a tip.

 

The bartender says to me “Hey…no tip?”

I tell him “I’m getting thrown out! What do you think?”

 

I walk outside and find Mark and Brian waiting in a cab. I get in the cab and we head to Milton. Once we hit the highway, we realize we have about $7 in cash between the 3 of us. The cab driver figures this out and starts asking us about it. Then Mark gets
belligerent. I can’t write in words what he was saying. They weren’t really words. He was just blabbering. The driver threatened to drop us off on the highway but I was able to squash it. I tell him to stop at an ATM and I’d get money.

 

I get the cash and we’re off again. So we’re getting close to home. Then Brian says…”Uh oh…pullover, pullover!” The cab screeches to a stop. Brian falls out and gets sick on the sidewalk. I pay the driver and he speeds off. So we’re about a block away from Mark’s place and 3 from Brian’s place. I live a good 15 minutes away but I’m the strongest mentally and physically at this juncture. I decide that I should get Brian home. I point Mark in the direction of his house.

 

Brian: “Where are we?”

 

Me: “Your street. Just keep walking that way.”

 

I send Mark off and Brian and I head to his place. Brian seems to be doing much better now. He’s still nowhere near 100% but he can talk. We get to his house in about 5 minutes. Then I realize that I’m missing my Bacardi t-shirt! I must’ve left it in the cab.
Damn! Oh well…things happen. Brian gets into his house and now I have to get home.

 

Mind you, I’m the most sober of the 3 of us but I’m nowhere near sober. I can barely walk straight. And now that I’m not watching after Mark and Brian, I feel the effects a lot stronger. This walk may take a little bit longer than 15 minutes. And it’s not exactly the warmest night.

 

I get about half a block and I can hear a car coming behind me. It’s the Police. The officer pulls up to me. Now in my head I’m thinking I can’t get busted from being drunk and disorderly…I think. But maybe the cab driver called the cops on us.

 

Officer: “Where are you heading?”

 

I explain to him that it was my friend’s birthday and I just dropped him off and now I’m heading home. I catch a break as the officer happens to be one of Brian’s neighbors! He stopped me because high school kids all over town had been seen drinking. He thought maybe I was one of them. He was trying to keep underage kids off the streets. He asks me if I need a ride. WORD! I jump in the back of the cruiser and I’m home in minutes. Perfect timing. I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Things with Mark…

So like I said before, I pointed Mark in the direction of his house. I could practically see it. We weren’t very far at all. I guess he was a little more drunk than I thought. He made his way down his street. Home Sweet Home! He got to the door but couldn’t get it opened. He figured he had the wrong set of keys. So he tried to climb through a side window.

Only one problem, he was at the wrong house…his Marine neighbor’s house. Mr. Marine is awakened by all the noise Mark is making.

Mr. Marine: “Mark…you live next door. Go home.”

 

Whoops!

So Mark does exactly what he’s told. He goes next door…except in the wrong direction.

 

And again he tries the door and then the window. This time he wakes up Old Lady Smith and almost gives her a heart attack!

3rd time’s the charm! He gets into his house and passes out on the floor of his brother’s room. He awakened early the next morning by his mother, Bacardi t-shirt as his pillow.

 

Momma Mark: “Mark, what are you doing here?”

Mark actually can’t remember how he got home and is praying that he didn’t drive. He jumps out, looks out the window…no car. That’s a relief.

The next day, we’re all recovered from the night. Brian made it to work the next afternoon. I didn’t wake up the next day until 5:00pm (this was a lot easier when I was younger) and my head was still pounding.

Mark is out for errands with his mom. She’s driving. They pull onto his street. All of a sudden he yells “Pull over! Pull over!”

His mom is afraid she may have just hit someone or something. She swerves to a stop and Mark runs out of the car. On top of a bunch of bushes, near where the cab had dropped us off the night before…my Bacardi t-shirt!