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Thoughts, observations, and introspections from an art student waiter/bartender in South Beach. Arcane humor ensues.
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:: Monday, January 07, 2008 ::

:: The Reason Behind my Resolution ::
I don't go out drinking often but when I know it's gonna happen, I usually load up on food so I get a nice buzz, while everyone around me is wondering why the ceiling fan is still while the room is spinning. (And I don't have to worry about a DUI since I don't own a car.) I might start with a couple of glasses of whiskey (or whisky) on the rocks, followed by a couple of beers (and maybe a couple more). If you remember this post, I can put away a decent amount of alcohol, though that tolerance only comes after eating a large amount of food.

After working New Year's Eve, a few of us went out for drinks at this bar next to our restaurant, where we're friends with their staff and they hook us up with discounted booze. I ate some chicken piccata beforehand but I wasn't sure if it would be enough to ward off the drunkenness. I was enjoying my night with some pool and bar chatter, until one of my co-workers decided to order us a round of Jäger shots and Heineken chasers. I normally hate Heineken but who am I to refuse a drink, right?

Unfortunately, I stuck with whiskey that night and they served it in larger-than-normal tumblers and went easy on the ice so by the time the Jäger shots came around, I was feeling pretty good. What happened after that was a blur.

I vaguely remember some large woman hitting on me and my buddy telling me, "you even try to go home with her and I'll punch you in the face." "Why?" "It'll keep you from going home with that beast." "I was just talking to her." "Yeah, whatever. Shut up and drink your beer."

I somewhat remember some greasy looking Latin guy constantly staring at me. Probably because of my long hair and apparently, Latin guys think long hair belong on women only. He did this for a few minutes before I got sick of his stare and I walked up to his face (with a pool stick in one hand) and asked very gently, "why the fuck are you staring at me?" He recoiled slightly. (I was literally six inches from his face, partly because the music was really loud and I wanted to make sure he heard me. Which was stupid because I didn't even know if this guy spoke English.) He simply put his hands up and said "sorry mang."

There were a couple of other things that I really don't care to talk about. However, this is what happened the morning after:

I woke up to my phone alarm blaring a few inches from my head. At first I wondered where I was. I figured out I was in my apartment but only after realizing that it looked different because I was lying in my bed backwards.

My clothes were in a small pile on the floor next to my shoes, yet I still had my socks on. I smell cigarettes, which is weird since I don't smoke. I turns out to be my hair, which is lying across my neck. Even though I had my hair down all night, I woke up wearing a ponytail and I don't remember when I put it up. Luckily, I still had my boxer briefs on.

I laid in bed for a moment to recall the pervious night (and because I left my legs next to the door) when my alarm goes off again. I hit the snooze button and I look to see what time it is. I'm not sure why but I set my alarm to go off at 3:19pm. When exactly did I set my alarm and why 3:19pm? I lay my head back to figure this out when ten minutes later, it goes off again, and I suddenly realize I have to at work in 90 minutes.

I drag my ass out of bed to the bathroom, where I think I smell Jack Daniels somewhere; only it's just me peeing. I limp to my fridge, chug a can of Monster energy drink, take a shower, and pound another Monster while my hair dries.

Once I get to work, I’m treated to sorry sight of waiters and bartenders in various states of hangovers. (Except for the one bartender who was fine since all he did was smoke pot all night. Yeah, that one.) I find the guy who ordered the Jäger shots and tell him to never order that shit again. His reply?

"I bought Jäger shots? When did I do that? I don't remember that! Are you sure it was me?"

Yeah, you were the one told me to get my ass over to the bar to do shots. Just before you told me to stay away from that one chick who was hitting on me. Remember?


You don't?

"I remember you walking up to some guy with a stick like you were about beat him to death with it."

Oh that. "Yeah." I wasn't going to kill him. I just didn't like the way he was looking at me.

"Whatever. I was sure you were gonna kill him because you had that look on your face again."

I did? [Pause.] Whatever. No more Jäger.

"I'm okay with that."

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:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:51 PM [+] :: | 0 comments

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