Happy New Year to me (or how NOT to drink)(kinda long)

The BBQ Pit
1

I was off of work Friday for New Year’s Eve. Since I was off of work and new that I would not need to be at work again until the following Monday I decided to start drinking a little early. Well, by 9:00 when we decided to head down to the local bars I was already pretty hammered. Being the responsible person that I am and knowing that I had every intention of getting even more fucked up, my roommate and I walked to Fry Street (street with all the local bars).

Everything was going great after we arrived. My roommate and I proceeded to get “snot slinging drunk”. I was indeed as fucked up as a football bat. The drinks were many, and the women were friendly. A great time was had by all. So 2:00AM rolls around and it was time to head home. Here is where the real fun began.

After walking for about 10 minutes (or so I am told) I was no longer able to navigate the rather perilous course known as a sidewalk. After going tits over ass, I tried to regain my composer and again found myself on the ground. We later discovered that this was due to the broken foot I sustained during my original tumble.

My roommate, being the great guy that he is told me to stay there and he would go home and call someone to come get me. In the 5 - 10 minutes that it took him to walk home and call one of our friends it seems that I passed out and woke back up with no memory of him telling me to stay put and that help would be on its way. All I knew was that I was alone on the sidewalk, very drunk, and my foot hurt like hell.

I stood up and somehow managed to start walking…but in the totally wrong direction. An hour later and I still had no idea where I was. I reached for my cell phone to try and call my roommate, but it was nowhere to be found. It had been lost. As I turned a corner I noticed a park. Like a bolt of lightning it hit me. I knew this place. I had been here before. I was close to home. YIPEE. But the joy soon subsided once I realized that I was still to drunk to remember how to get home from here. But, I did know the general direction.

So, off I went. Going up and down every road and alley in my neighborhood. Winding and twisting and turning…and in much pain with every step. While hobbling down an alley, I turned and looked to my left. There was a house with a light on. Through the back door window of this house I could see a poster. It was a Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde movie poster. I thought to myself that it was cool that this house would have the same poster that is hanging in my living room. I stood there. I thought long, hard, drunken thoughts. Then I’m sure a light bulb must have appeared over my head. THIS WAS MY HOUSE!!!

Great! I had found home. I was over joyed. But I was in the alley and I only had 2 options. Walk all the way down the alley and then double back up my street to my house, or hop the fence and head for home. Knowing that in my current condition I may never find the house again if I tried going down the alley and doubling back, I remembered that we had a back gate. I tried it, but it wouldn’t budge. “To hell with it,” I said and tried to hop the fence. Unfortunately I had forgotten about the broken foot. I was once again on my ass. I tired again, and again found myself on my ass. Well, not one to run from a drunken challenge, I sort of layed on the fence and more or less just rolled over it. That was not a good idea. I cut the shit out of myself,from the wire barbs at the top, in pretty much a straigh line from my neck to my gut.

I stood up, limped around to the front door, fished my keys from my pocket and opened the door. I was home. Sweet, sweet home. I flopped in my bed and awoke at 9:00 the next morning so my roommate could take my to the ER to have my foot x-rayed. Good times. Good times.

So I am here pitting myself. It seems that the only good choice I made the night of New Year’s Eve was not driving. It will be quite a while before drinking sounds even remotely fun to me again. But when I do drink again, I have learned a valuable lesson about moderation. Thank you, and good night.

2

At least you didn’t loose your pants and wake up being hosed down by a sprinkler. Or wake up with a strange man coming at you with a kitchen knife.

Not this New Year’s but one in the past…

Happy New Year!

3

Unlikely, even in these circumstances. Still all the best to you!

4

Damn, that was funny!! :smiley:

And good on ya for not driving. May I suggest a taxi next time? Or skip the middle man and just call an ambulance?

5

Greathouse, is your foot doing any better?

6

We had actually considered a taxi ride home, but after spending well over $200 on drinks at the bar we figured we couldn’t afford it. Talk about some fucked up priorities. :smack:

7

Well it hurts like hell and I am going tomorrow morning to have a cast put on it. It could have been worse, but all in all I did it to myself so I can’t really belly ache too much about the pain. :smiley:

8

You cannot drop hints like this and not tell the story. Come on, spill!

9

Nice story!

It’s weird, because many times after a night of heavy drinking, I will wake up with bruises that I have no memory of sustaining. It’s amazing how much pain you can take when you’re sloshed. Once, I got a tattoo while shitty drunk and have no memory of it. Woke up the next day with an itchy ankle and I scratched it and it started hurting, and I looked down and saw it. Very vague memories came back but no memory of any pain or discomfort.

10

Ow, though… :frowning: offers hugs and smooches, and many get-better wishes

11

**Anaamika ** - I don’t want to steal **Greathouse’s ** thunder, just wanted to let him know it sure could have been worse!

If you’re really good I will post it in another thread some day :slight_smile:

12

Go for it man. It would certainly help to know I’m not the only one out here who does shit this stupid while drunk. :smiley:

13

Greathouse, I sympathize completely. One night shortly before Christmas, some friends and I went out for dinner at a restaurant with a $2 margarita special. That was about 7:30pm. We went back to my buddy’s house afterward, and continued to hang out and drink.

At midnight (four margaritas, many beers, and a 40oz later) another friend shows up and tells us about a party that’s going on just four blocks away. So we walked over there and kept drinking until about 3am. It took me over half an hour to find my way back to my buddy’s house. I’m still not sure how I did it.

14

Was anyone else thinking “I bet it isn’t really his house” at this point? :smiley:

15

Ahahaha. My sister, who’s a freshman, tells of an acquaintance from her floor who fell down the stairs dead-drunk and walked around on her broken leg because she couldn’t feel the pain.

To get on-topic, get well soon Greathouse!

16

21st birthday was the same as a friend of mine’s, in springtime. We’re at the town where he goes to University (I was home on leave at the time).

We started the night drinking beers at a BBQ, but then rapidly moved on to stronger things. At one point, I recall 21 shots being lined up on the bar for the two of us to share, as well as pitchers of Jagermeister on ice. One other recollection was getting rousted at least once by the cops, as well as someone throwing firecrackers down the stairwell in the house.

So it’s about a half-mile from the place where we were drinking to the guy’s house where we were staying, and apparently I got lost. Badly. Usually I have pretty good drunk homing beacon, but this time it failed me. Oh, and we were on mountain bikes for some idiotic reason.

I woke up, around 7am, with some kind homeowner’s automatic sprinkler system hosing me down, no pants, bike crashed beneath me. I did have a beer can in the pocket of my jacket, though, so drank that to keep the most savage parts of the hangover at bay.

I think, in retrospect, that I likely lost my pants trying to pee somewhere on the way home. One of those ‘it made sense at the time’ kind of things. Then when riding, I think I crashed my bike through the shrub, landed on the lawn, knocked myself out a bit, then woke up when the sprinklers came on.

17

Damn good story! Thanks for sharing. :smiley:

18

I loved the “fucked up as a football bat” line. I’ll have to remember that one.

19

Does this thread remind anyone of the “Wagenschenke” walking drunk game that some Doper posted a link to in the past?

If you need an animated illustration to go along with the reading of this thread, here it is.

20

No offense to your roommate, but he really shouldn’t have left you alone. Still, his reasoning probably wasn’t the best either at that time.

Glad you’re okay! (And yes, I’m one of those who thought it wasn’t going to be your house!)