Fabiano the Spy
03-31-2009, 11:23 PM
So, I will admit, being 19 years old, I jumped on the drinking wagon (for my town, anyway) rather late, even though the drinking age is 21.
I've never been one to party, but with the type of place I work at (a mom and pops store) everybody knows each other rather well.
So, I became good friends with literally everybody I work with, and Brad, the store owners son, took me out to a party at his friend Graham's house.
Don't get me wrong, I've drank a couple beers before, but never been drunk with a group of people, etc.
So we get there, and I see my friend Todd I haven't seen in ages. I throw in about 50 bucks to buy a bunch of beer (which everybody at the party loved me for) and sit around and wait for the beer buyer to return from the party store 3 blocks away.
When they return I crack into them and just let loose.
After 4 beers or so, I found myself drunk, being a 125 pound, 5'8 male. It didn't help that it had only been about an hour into it.
So I'm blabbering out of my mind to Todd, and a couple ladies I graduated with and hadn't seen in almost a year, when Todd randomly says "So Nate, how old again are you, man?" I reply with "19."
I look at him and he suddenly says, looking out the window "Well, you're going to have to come with me, because the cops are here, man."
He takes me to a closet where I sit there, with a beer in hand, freaking out. I've been a rather "good kid" with no police record.
I hear the police come in and pretty much tell Graham to get everybody to shut the heck up.
My friend from work, Michael, opens the closet door and lets me out. Come to think of it, I really hope they found that beer I had hidden in the closet, in the event that an officer opened the closet door.
Most people at the party were in their late 20's or 30's, so it wasn't much of a problem, but I was paranoid.
Anyways, to keep things quiet, Graham, who so happens to be the maintenance guy at the apartment complex, grabs the master keys, and takes us down a floor, from his apartment, to a empty apartment where we continue the party.
The day previously, I had gotten the Umbrella Corporation tattooed on my right arm. Being a drunken moron, I'm showing it off.
Michael, and Krystal (one of the girls I graduated with) are apparently recording my ramblings.
At this point, I lift up my shirt to reveal my tattoo (still fresh, and healing, keep in mind) and I begin to explain where it's from. Somebody, I don't remember who, slaps the tattoo. I scream in agony.
This turned into a game with my fellow party members.
I was constantly slapped right where i had the tattoo, causing severe pain, and a scream.
After awhile, we moved back to Graham's apartment and the party went on.
Yet again, the cops show up, so me and Krystal (one of the girls I graduated with, and had a crush on for most of my life) get in the shower to hide, this time.
It was quite awkward, because I had always admired her from a distance, without ever really telling her. Me and her were part of a completely different "clique" in high school, and never really talked.
But here we are, sitting in a tub together with the shower curtain pulled so that we're not revealed.
The cops say that if Graham doesn't get everybody to shut up, the next time he shows up, he's going to arrest somebody.
Cool deal, I suppose.
So me and Brad decide we should be leaving. After asking Brad about 12 times if he's sure that he isn't drunk, we decide to leave.
I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. i realized I had drank about 13 beers since I was there for about 4 hours. I was completely hammered.
I run to the bathroom and start to puke. I feel like sleeping on the bathroom floor.
So I crash at Graham's for the night, and wake up next to his female cousin. Apparently nothing happened. I don't remember anything happening, nor do I want to, and think anything did, in fact, happen.
She apparently slept next to me to make sure I was alright, which was really sweet of her.
Anyways, the reason I'm making this thread is, I'm hammered out of my mind, and felt like killing time as I wait for my pizza to arrive. When the pizza delivery boy arrives, I will probably tip him 10 dollars for driving 1 mile across town, he will be happy, I suppose.
So, guys, share your drunken stories. It's always interesting to hear. :)
I also just realized how long this post is, and I know I'm not very well known here, and don't contribute very often. Take it while you can. Not that it should be an honor that I post or anything, but. Meh.
I've never been one to party, but with the type of place I work at (a mom and pops store) everybody knows each other rather well.
So, I became good friends with literally everybody I work with, and Brad, the store owners son, took me out to a party at his friend Graham's house.
Don't get me wrong, I've drank a couple beers before, but never been drunk with a group of people, etc.
So we get there, and I see my friend Todd I haven't seen in ages. I throw in about 50 bucks to buy a bunch of beer (which everybody at the party loved me for) and sit around and wait for the beer buyer to return from the party store 3 blocks away.
When they return I crack into them and just let loose.
After 4 beers or so, I found myself drunk, being a 125 pound, 5'8 male. It didn't help that it had only been about an hour into it.
So I'm blabbering out of my mind to Todd, and a couple ladies I graduated with and hadn't seen in almost a year, when Todd randomly says "So Nate, how old again are you, man?" I reply with "19."
I look at him and he suddenly says, looking out the window "Well, you're going to have to come with me, because the cops are here, man."
He takes me to a closet where I sit there, with a beer in hand, freaking out. I've been a rather "good kid" with no police record.
I hear the police come in and pretty much tell Graham to get everybody to shut the heck up.
My friend from work, Michael, opens the closet door and lets me out. Come to think of it, I really hope they found that beer I had hidden in the closet, in the event that an officer opened the closet door.
Most people at the party were in their late 20's or 30's, so it wasn't much of a problem, but I was paranoid.
Anyways, to keep things quiet, Graham, who so happens to be the maintenance guy at the apartment complex, grabs the master keys, and takes us down a floor, from his apartment, to a empty apartment where we continue the party.
The day previously, I had gotten the Umbrella Corporation tattooed on my right arm. Being a drunken moron, I'm showing it off.
Michael, and Krystal (one of the girls I graduated with) are apparently recording my ramblings.
At this point, I lift up my shirt to reveal my tattoo (still fresh, and healing, keep in mind) and I begin to explain where it's from. Somebody, I don't remember who, slaps the tattoo. I scream in agony.
This turned into a game with my fellow party members.
I was constantly slapped right where i had the tattoo, causing severe pain, and a scream.
After awhile, we moved back to Graham's apartment and the party went on.
Yet again, the cops show up, so me and Krystal (one of the girls I graduated with, and had a crush on for most of my life) get in the shower to hide, this time.
It was quite awkward, because I had always admired her from a distance, without ever really telling her. Me and her were part of a completely different "clique" in high school, and never really talked.
But here we are, sitting in a tub together with the shower curtain pulled so that we're not revealed.
The cops say that if Graham doesn't get everybody to shut up, the next time he shows up, he's going to arrest somebody.
Cool deal, I suppose.
So me and Brad decide we should be leaving. After asking Brad about 12 times if he's sure that he isn't drunk, we decide to leave.
I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. i realized I had drank about 13 beers since I was there for about 4 hours. I was completely hammered.
I run to the bathroom and start to puke. I feel like sleeping on the bathroom floor.
So I crash at Graham's for the night, and wake up next to his female cousin. Apparently nothing happened. I don't remember anything happening, nor do I want to, and think anything did, in fact, happen.
She apparently slept next to me to make sure I was alright, which was really sweet of her.
Anyways, the reason I'm making this thread is, I'm hammered out of my mind, and felt like killing time as I wait for my pizza to arrive. When the pizza delivery boy arrives, I will probably tip him 10 dollars for driving 1 mile across town, he will be happy, I suppose.
So, guys, share your drunken stories. It's always interesting to hear. :)
I also just realized how long this post is, and I know I'm not very well known here, and don't contribute very often. Take it while you can. Not that it should be an honor that I post or anything, but. Meh.