So, about a month ago I was talking with my buddy in DC and he said he had a hook up for ticket to see Bruce Springsteen. Now I am a fairly big Bruce fan, so I was all in. The concert was on a Monday. I live in Philly, the concert was in DC (which is part of my territory) so its a no brainer. I drive down on the company dollar and meet my friend at the bar for happy hour. Happy hour was a little laid back, but it was Monday after all. We headed over to the Verizon Center to pick up the tickets and then we hit some Mexican bar across the street… Rosa something or other… After we put back a few $15 top shelf margarita we started feeling nice. We then hit up the Green Turtle, for some beers and more tequila. The concert was about to start so we headed in….

As we where walking to our seats, we started to notice all the Cougars floatin around for the show. Go figure, we weren’t at a Kelly Clarkson concert with a bunch of high school and college kids… (man, I am starting to date myself here) So we grabbed another beer and found our seats. Listened to the first couple songs and proceeded to go back out for more beers and ended staying near the bar almost the rest of the show. We mainly just where talking to the Cougars as they came for beers. Headed back to our seats for the end of the show… Good TIMES!!!

So, the concert is over… my buddy gets a call from the girl that hooked us up with the seats and they want to meet up for some more drinks… Its on… we head back over to that Rosa place and continue to party…. I notice that the girl that hooked us up with the seats has a bottle of Champagne in her purse and I ask her about it. She said she snagged it out of a VIP suite at the show. So I grabbed it and opened it in the middle of the bar, grabbed some glasses, and poured everyone some…

This is where the blackout occurred… I don’t remember anything after that…

I wake up in my underwear, on a bed in some house. Not a clue where I am… some Cougar came in to wake me and let me know that my friend was looking for me. He had to go to work and all my shit is at his place. I talk to him and set up a place where I can get his key.

Come to find out, I was in Fairfax, Virginia… Miles away from DC…. In some 40 something’s house… On the plus side her two kids where at school already and her husband had left for work, and she was easy on the eyes…. WTF!!!

So I had her drive me back to DC… Nothing happened…at least that what she told me…

Apparently she took me home and hid me in her spare bedroom, in the basement… I think she was fighting with her husband, and she made it clear that loyalty was not her best trait

Not much more to tell, but beware of the Cougars… especially the married ones… they will do anything these days…. Now that we are in our late 20′s, its crazy what kind of women are lookin for some strange…

I did make my 11AM meeting in Virginal… it was not a nice, but I made it work…

Varitek is listed but who knows if this list is legit or not. Julian Tavarez also shows up.

Former Sox include Brady Anderson, Manny Alexander, Dante Bichette, Wil Cordero, Jose Canseco, Roger Clemens, Paxton Crawford, Johnny Damon, Carl Everett,  Rich Garces,  Nomar Garciaparra,  Darren Holmes,  Trot Nixon, Jose Offerman and Mo Vaughn.

Brady Anderson, Manny Alexander, Rick Ankiel, Jeff Bagwell, Barry Bonds, Aaron Boone, Rafaeil Bettancourt, Bret Boone, Milton Bradley, David Bell, Dante Bichette, Albert Belle, Paul Byrd, Wil Cordero, Ken Caminiti, Mike Cameron, Ramon Castro, Jose and Ozz ie Canseco, Roger Clemens, Paxton Crawford, Wilson Delgado, Lenny Dykstra, Johnny Damon, Carl Everett, Kyle Farnsoworth, Ryan Fr anklin, Troy Glaus, Rich Garces, Jason Grimsley, Troy Glaus, Jua n Gonzalez, Eric Gagne, Nomar Garciaparra, Jason Giambi, Jeremy Giambi, Jose Guillen, Jay Gibbons, Juan Gon zalez, Clay Hensley, Jerry Hairston, Felix Heredia, Jr., Darren Holmes, Wally Joyner, Darryl Kile, Matt Lawton, Raul Mondesi, Ma rk McGwire, Guillermo Mota, Robert Machado, Damian Moss Jose Guillen, Jay Gibbons, Juan Gonzalez, Clay Hensley, Jerry Ha irston, Felix Heredia, Jr., Darren Holmes, Wally Joyner, Darryl Kile, Matt Lawton, Raul Mondesi, Mark McGwire, Guillermo Mota, R obert Machado, Damian Moss, Abraham Nunez, Trot Nixon, Jose Offe rman, Andy Pettitte, Mark Prior, Neifi Perez, Rafael Palmiero, A lbert Pujols, Brian Roberts, Juan Rincon, John Rocker, Pudge Rod riguez, Sammy Sosa, Scott Schoenweiis, David Segui, Alex Sanchez , Gary Sheffield, Miguel Tejada, Julian Tavarez,Fernando Tatis, Maurice Vaughn, Jason Varitek, Ismael Valdez, Matt Williams and Kerry Wood

Year 3 of the 12 Bars of Christmas!

On the 2nd day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Two friends a-laughing.
3:30 – Hennessey’s – 25 Union Street

On the 3rd day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Three stout ales.
4:00 – Paddy O’s – 33 Union Street

On the 4th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Four full glasses.
4:30 – The Tap – 19 Union Street

On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Fiiiiive Jaaaaaager shots.
5:00 – Purple Shamrock – 1 Union Street

On the 6th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Six dudes a-stumbling.
5:30 – Clarke’s – 21 Merchant’s Row

On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Seven drinks a-spilling.
6:00 – McFadden’s – 148 State Street

On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Twelve bars of crawling.
8:30 – An Tain – 31 India Street

Last week the Redskins were playing the Bears. I’m a Skins fan (RIP Sean) and was excited to see the game. Unfortunately I don’t have the NFL Network so I was going to have to go to a bar to watch it. Luckily, my buddy Tim told me that his girl, Ingrid, had the channel. So I could it watch it over there with him. I really wanted to see the game and hadn’t hung with Tim lately so I agreed.

I arrived at Ingrid’s apartment just before game time and proceeded to concentrate on the game.  Luckily, even though Ingrid was home, she confined herself to her room during the game, except for an occasional trip to the kitchen.  But for the most part, she left Tim and I alone to enjoy the game.  Halftime arrived and even though it was a close game, the Skins were winning 7 – 0, plus Tim and I were able to enjoy it with minimal interruptions from Ingrid so everything was good…or so I thought.

Right before the second half started, Ingrid made another appearance, but this one was different than the previous ones.  Instead of just passing us on her way to and from the kitchen, she stopped and looked at the television.

Ingrid:  The game’s over? (Excited)
Tim:  No…it’s just halftime.  The second half just started.
Ingrid.  Oh.  (Then she turned and walked away dejected.)

(That can’t be good, but oh well, the second half is starting…time to focus.)

Unfortunately, only a few minutes passed before my concentration was broken by yet another visit from Ingrid.

Ingrid:  So Tim, are you going to do that thing that you said that you were going to do?
Tim:  What thing? (Confused)  After the game.  It’s still in the second half.
Ingrid:  You know…that thing…
Tim:  What are you talking about? (Still confused)
Me:  (Who cares what she is talking about?!?!!?  The game is on!!!!)
Ingrid:  You know…you promised…
Tim:  Oh. (As a look of realization and embarrassment came across his face.)

Ingrid smiled and then left.

I watched Ingrid leave and then turned and noticed that Tim still had that peculiar look on his face.  (What’s going on?!??!  Actually, I don’t even care.  At least now, I can focus on the game.)

Once again, my peace and tranquility only lasted a few minutes before Ingrid returned.  (What’s in her hand?)  Ingrid walked right past me and snuggled up next to Tim on the far end of the couch.  Ingrid had a huge smile on her face and Tim just looked at her and didn’t say anything.  (What’s going on and why does Tim look so nervous?)  Next thing that I knew, Ingrid was laying on the couch with her legs across Tim’s lap.  Now, I couldn’t even concentrate on the game anymore.  (What’s going on?)  Then, something strange happened, Ingrid handed Tim a bottle of nail polish.

Ingrid:  You promised…
Me:  (What?!?!?!  H3ll no!!!!!  I know Tim…he’s not going out like that!!!  Go ahead Tim…tell her where she can stick that nail polish!!!!)

But he said nothing.  He just turned and looked at me with this sad and guilty look …like a puppy that has just been caught doing something that it knows that it wasn’t supposed to do.  (What?!!?  You better not!!!!)  And just when I thought that things couldn’t get any worse, the unfathomable happened.  Tim unscrewed the top off of the bottle of nail polish and started painting her toe nails…with me right there!!!!!!

I don’t think that I have ever been so disgusted in my whole life!!!!  I tried to concentrate on the game but it was just too much for me to bear. The magnitude of disgust and disappointment that I had for Tim and what he had become…I can’t even explain.  Don’t get me wrong, I understand that you have to make sacrifices when you are in a relationship, but during the game…and with your boy right there…have some self-respect!!!!

I was so disturbed that I just got up and went home with like 10 minutes still left in the game. I luckily found a bar to see the Skins win 24 – 16!

But I will always remember vividly the shade of red of the nail polish and the look on Tim’s face as I left Ingrid’s apartment.  At the time, I just thought that he was saying “I’m sorry” and “goodbye, see you later”.  But now that I think that about it, I realize that he was just saying “goodbye” because he knew that I would never see him the same as before…the “old” Tim was gone forever.

I guess that the commercial did do one good thing though.  I haven’t thought about Tim in years and even though it triggered one of the worst memories of my life, it also caused me to remember the good times with the “old” Tim.  As for the memories with “new” Tim, hopefully, the rest of those stay locked away forever…

By the way, here is the commercial…

Now we’re going up against those snitching New York Jets. My friends and I just played a quick game of “Guess the Spread”

My guess was 26 points. I came the closest as the actual opening line is 27 points. That is an NFL record. What can I say about this team what hasn’t already been said. They’re pretty good.

And the Celtics are keeping pace with them. They went 4 – 0 last week and are now an NBA best 17 – 2. Now if they would only show their games in high def, I’d be a very happy guy. It’s so hard to watch television without it. I have no idea how I did it before.

Nothing really happening with the Sox right now.

So I’m in a bad mood so I take off. I get to the T station and realize (to my chagrin) that my keys are not in my pocket as I had assumed, but instead inside my roommates bag with my cellphone (sweet!). So after devouring 3 pieces of hi fi pizza I get home and proceed to ring our doorbell approximately 100,000 times. B/c I assumed Joe was passed out and sleeping, I looked around for things to throw at Joe’s window.

Conveniently there were many things to be had in the apartment dumpster including but not limited to a mop head, a bucket and an old backpack. After 20 minutes of lobbing these fruitless noise makers (only hitting his window once) I decide that Joe is obviously not home from the party yet and I should obviously pass out on the concrete sidewalk in front of our door vice the soft grass next to our door. So an unknown number of hours later I wake up shivering and still very drunk, I throw some stuff at the window again, and then decide to look for Joe’s hidden car key so I can sleep in his car. After frisking his car for 20 minutes I find the key and pass out in the car until about 645 this morning. Of course I have no idea what time it is when I wake up b/c of the lack of cellphone and time technology, but luckily my sense of thirst is still finely tuned so i decide to stumble groggily and still kinda drunk over to the 7-11.

After buying one of each type of liquid available, I look into a mirrored surface and realize I’ve been walking around Central Square with stuff written all over my face, neck and arms. (I have a full sharpie mustache and beard).

I then head back to my apartment and start throwing stuff at Joe’s window again with the aid of a little old latino women that barely speaks english who apparently is my neighbor. After starting to yell at the window, a handy man guy that works for our apartment comes by and lets me in around 830. I search the house for Joe and lo and behold.. my damn roommate never made it back from the party last night, making everything I had done all night completely pointless. And of course, the second I go downstairs and get a glass of water, in busts Joe yelling “GOOOOOOD MOOOORNING”. I then yell at him (even though I was clearly the dumb drunkass in the situation) and go take a shower.

I’m in the Burbs and not Boston! I gotta get to Boston! The boys want to go get some drinks, I decide that I’m definitely going back to Boston. I think I forgot that we were in the Burbs, near nothing, and I had no idea where I was going. Whatever. I pretend to be interested in staying, while waiting for my chance to ditch out.

Everyone goes into the kitchen to mix some drinks up. So I sneak out the back door, classic Ryan move. No way I’m saying goodbye. I look to the skyline, can’t see Boston. Damn it. I pick the direction that I think Boston should be in, and start walking. I’m fully aware that I’m staggering big time. As hard as I try, I can’t walk in a straight line. Not even close. So I start jogging. That lasts about a block, after I trip into a parked car. I remember crossing a little bridge over a river. I see another party with the door open, I think about it for about a minute, then decide the Boston is the right move. If I wanted to go to a party in the Burbs, I would have stayed where I was.

After about 20 minutes, I’m still not finding a main road or the skyline. I decide that I should go back to the the Burbs party. I stop and turn around. But I have no idea where the party is at this point. So now I’m completely screwed. I just keep walking in the direction I was going. In my head, I keep thinking that I’m closer to Boston than I think, and I’m just going to stumble onto Mass Ave any second now. I see my first car in the past half hour. I see street lights. I see a Burger King sign!

I decide I’ll get a Whopper and some chicken tenders, and a cab number. The guy working behind the counter is honestly about 109 years old. He can’t even keep his hands steady enough to pick up the change, and can’t see a foot in front of him. I feel bad. He does get me a cab number though. There are also four guys hanging out in the Burger King, probably in their late 70s, making fun of the cashier for being so old. Good stuff.

I call around in Boston to see what’s going on. By luck, I end up talking to someone who’s heading into the city from the highway. This is perfect. I make plans to take a cab to the highway and he’ll pick me up there. Things are looking up.

So I’m standing in front of the Burger King, in a t-shirt. I realize that I’m really cold, I was too drunk before to notice. I’m stuffing the Whopper down my throat when a cop rolls by. The car pulls a 180 and swings back for me. I just keep eating the Whopper and watch the cop. She rolls down her window.

Cop: “Um, you OK?”

Me: “Yeah, just enjoying my sandwich”.

Cop: “Where you going?”

Me: “Southie”

Cop: “How you getting there?”

Me: “cab”

Cop: “you call one yet?”

Me: “yup, the old guy in BK did”

She stares at me, shakes her head a little bit, mutters ‘whatever’ and drives away. I fling the rest of my Whopper into the street and start working on the tenders. Soon my cab is there.

Cabbie: “Where you going?”
Me: “The highway”

Cabbie: “The highway?? What part??”

Me: “an exit”

He drops me off at an exit near Waltham, my buddy picks me up like 5 seconds later. Well maybe it was a half hour, I don’t know. But it felt real quick. He looks at me, says ‘so when did you start drinking?’ I answer honestly. ‘I haven’t stopped since Thursday!’

So we get to a party in Southie. This girl runs up to me and gives me a big hug. I have no idea who she is. I turn to my buddy, right in front of her, and whisper in a very, very loud whisper ‘who is this girl?’

She just laughs. She tells me she was in my grade school class. And all of a sudden I remember her. She was pretty cute in 4th or 5th grade. The party is full of Southie people that I haven’t seen in 10 or 15 years. Old little league buddies, grade school kids, the kid that I stole my first car with. The first girl I kissed. The kid from school who used to poop his pants every week. It’s a really strange feeling, seeing all these people I knew growing up. I kinda wish I was more sober so I could talk to these people more. Again, whatever. I stay here for a couple hours, just dropping beers and hanging out. I’m happy with the way my mystical journey ended up.

We hit another party, not much going on there. Everyone is taking off for another party, but I’m done. I’m about a mile from my house, I go into an all-out sprint for no apparent reason. I think I did about a 5:30 mile. I really have no idea why I did it, it just seemed right at the time. I hit up some leftover chinese food and pass out on the couch.

Apparently there was a post party. I remember being at it so that’s all good. Then it’s blank. Until I figure it’s time for me to head home.

I was planning on taking the T but I missed the last one. I’m destroyed and it’s like a $50 cab ride home (I’m making entry level salary). I make my way outside and explain my situation to the foreign bouncers. In other words, I give them my cell phone and tell them to call my mom to pick me up (okay…I live at home too. I’m trying to save some cash up to move out). At the time it felt like the best option.

Foreign Bouncer: Hello, I have your son

My Moms: What? Who is this? Where’s my son? Who are you? Did you kidnap him?

So moms thinks that the foreign bouncer has kidnapped me and is making a ransom call. He finally is able to calm her down and explain what’s up. She agrees to come pick me up. Perfect!

Well…about 5 minutes pass and I guess that I’ve forgotten that moms is coming. Because I find a cab and jump into it. I get all the way home and realize that a car is missing from the driveway. That’s when I remember why. So I call her up and tell her to abort the mission. Too bad she’s already in Boston. My fault. By the time she gets home, I’m already fast asleep. And I don’t get up the next day until about 4:00. I had to hide out in my room for a bit. Not my finest moment. These parties are dangerous!