Alright fine. You all asked for it... I actually do have one drunk story. One that, after much questioning and much time that has passed, I have agreed to share. Not usually my style, but this story is so outrageous, I believe it belongs in my blog. So here it goes.
Ever gotten so drunk you wake up with your head pounding, holes in the walls, your weave in the mailbox, and an angry call from someone's grandma telling you she aired out the tires in her relative's car so you wouldn't steal it?
Oh you have... Then your name is probably... censored, as all of the names are in my blogs. So I'll call her Mama.
It was a normal weekday... a Thusday I believe, recalling the walk I had in the morning to get to French class. I had a new friend, Mama, and she was kinda like me in all ways that were obvious- loud, obnoxious, and friendly. Of course we hit it off!
I remember when we were welcoming her from across the states in our little home upstairs in Diggy's apartment. She was so excited to meet everyone, but when she saw me for the first time, we both started screaming, jumping up and down, and RAMBLED like we'd been friends for years.
Oh yes, love at first site.
So on this Thursday, Mama says to me, "I just wanna get drunk!" Very excitedly.
"I'm not angry, depressed, I've never drank a whole lot before, why not?!"
"Bottle of vodka in my trunk." I smiled at her.
"Ooooh! We gotta get prepared for this, Tibby!!"
So we did. You'd swear we had the pre-drunk munchies. We went to the nearest grocery and bought biscuits, chips, cheetos, cookies, and lots of orange juice. You know, delicious mixing purposes. We get back to the apartment, the guys are doing as they always did, always have done, and probably as they will always do- play some COD.
We make the biscuits and Mama is so excited, "Should I be scared?" She smiled.
"Nah, I'll take good care of you. We're just gonna mow down and drink, no big."
Foreshadowing..
We didn't even wait for the biscuits to cool before we shoved them in plastic baggies, mouths, and some in our chip bags. Of our bottles of orange juice, we drink about halfway, naturally, and pour the deliciousness into the bottle. Took a couple shots from the bottle (okay fine a few) then we walk to the park and here is where the magic starts..
I have been blessed with a cast iron tolerance, so yeah, for me this is "nothing to worry about". For my chocolate sister... girl had another thing comin. We sit down at the halfpipe of the park, our snacks around us like some kind of offering to the gods and begin talking.
Time lapse~
I notice her motions are getting a little shifty, "Hey, mama, we should start walkin back."
"Yeah but it's so nice outside!"
At this moment, she gets up and almost biffs just standing there.
Oh boy.
"I gotta peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Tibbyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!"
"The bathrooms are right over there," pointing in the directions of them.
We wander over to the bathrooms and dispose of our garbage. I was rather impressed we downed a whole can of biscuits, two bags of salty goodness, and enough liquid to counteract it.
"The doors are locked! Whatever, I don't even care," Mama said, as she walked to the front of the restrooms.
"Mama you're not... yes. Yes you are. Okay."
She doesn't even hesitate to pop a squat and start laughing her ass off, "Look! oh my gosh do you see me? BAHAHAHA dude I'm peeing on the bathrooms!"
"Yeah I see you." And I can't help but crack a giggle myself.
"It's so hot out here Tibbyyyyy."
"No it's not, you just MAMA NO!! PUT THAT BACK ON!"
She's already stripping her shirt but I notice she has a tank underneath.
"Still too hot," She says. But I coax her out of the second layer.
"Mama, we need to get you back to the apartment. It will be nice and cool there."
Those that are reading you know, you KNOW you can not argue with a drunk. If they say it's hot, then it IS and you say anything to appeal to them. If they say they don't care, then you damn well agree and say they don't care and coax them to sit down in a damn chair with a straight jacket. I, however, did not have one of those and I was freezing balls.
"I want more vodka!" She said.
"Well, there's more back at the apartment. We gotta walk that way to get there though."
It's more than a few blocks away and what seemed as a short walk before was now crossing into the New World.
"Tibbbyyyyyy, where are weeeeee?"
"Mama, we've only walked a block." I look back, gestering at the park.
"Oh, bwahahahahhahaaaaaa."
She tries to call her brother and I tell her he's probably sleeping.
"BUT HE LOVES ME!"
So she calls him, and I explain she's schwasty. He was a good sport and laughed it off.
Fastforward
We get to the apartment, but she didn't want to go in, knowing where the drink is, still in my trunk.
"You said so! You said so!" She yelled.
Okay, prepare to be mindfucked.
"Mama, it's upstairs, remember? We took it up when we took the biscuits up."
"O YEAH!! TO THE KITCHEN!" She said, but not before falling on the cement. Nothing bad, just kinda sat on the driveway.
"I have too much hair, you know that? It gets so hot and sticky!"
She tussles her own hair, but it messes up an extension. What better to do than to pull it out right? Wrong. She unravelled some kind of maze of weave.
"Uh oh..." She said.
"Let me help." Kinda laughing at the predicament. Okay so fine, I had a drunk moment myself and didn't know where to put her hair to keep it safe. "I'm gonna put these in the mailbox so we remember okay?" Boy was I wrong.
I get her up the stairs to the apartment.
Things are fine until she sees Diggy... they kinda had a thing once, but were friends at the time.
Drunk Mama didn't think so.
"Wake up! Wake up! It's me!" She said to him, petting his hair.
You know, we're gonna skip this whole part. It went on for hours. Me pulling her away, trying to calm her, she woke up the whole house, she tried climbing DOWN the stairs, I tried to hold on, then let go because she was being so agressive, she fell down a flight the first time and made a hole in the wall at the bottom of the stairs with her head.
I'm not gonna lie. I laughed my ass off. She did too, she had superman strength in her drunkness. She crawled back up the stairs then wanted to go down AGAIN! I didn't try to stop her this time. I just watched. And again, down the stairs.
Diggy at this point asks, "Is she falling down the stairs?"
"Yeah man."
He started giggling, "That's so awesome." Then went into his bedroom to get some sleep.
More hours of this and I've already sobered up. Unknowing of what to do with a crazy chocolate on my hands, I put her in the car and bring her to her dorm room.
Little did I know, not the smartest thing.
Her cousin was in the room and woke up to Mama screaming.
"What is wrong with her?" She asked.
"She's a crazy drunk. Good to know for future reference."
We get her into some clean clothes and lay her down. She goes through the motions, puking, crying, puking, sleeping, shivering, and I thought it was all in the clear.
"Keep the glass of water next to her for when she wakes. She's gonna want to keep hydrated."
And I walked back to Diggy's because we always walked together in the morning for French. I got a few hours of sleep and we started to walk.
"Sorry she woke you up man."
"It happens."
And we start bullshitting on our way to class when I get a phone call.
"Is this who they call Thibodeaux?"
The lady on the other end is making this sound like some sketchy drug deal.
"Yes ma'am."
She sounded surprised, either from the fact that I'm a gal, or because I was so polite.
"This is (Mama's) grandmother. I want you to know her cousin called me and she is now in my care. I have no idea what you two got into last night but I am very disappointed. I have a right mind just to call the police."
"Yes ma'am."
"And I have located her car and aired out the tires, so don't think about taking it anywhere."
"Yes ma'am. She has the keys in her room."
"I have no idea what you thought you were doing. I should press charges but I need time to think."
"Yes ma'am."
"Well good bye."
And she hung up the phone. "Who was that?" Diggy asked.
"Her grandma" I said, he knew who I was talking about.
"Yeah? She got (Mama)?"
"Yeah, said she might press charges. For supplying a minor."
"Oh... wait but you're not even..." He looks at me questioningly.
"No. I got it in Canada."
We both start laughing. "Dude, don't sweat it."
So I didn't. But that day when Mama came up to me crying, asking what happened, I had to explain the whole night. By the end of the tale, she was done crying and started laughing. "Psssh that's not so bad! My grandma made it sound like I did something dangerous!"
Don't drink and walk kids, or you might wake up with a hole in the wall and your weave in the mailbox.
Which by the way, we didn't even remember until a couple weeks later when we saw something furry poking out of the side of the mailbox. We laughed so hard when we pulled it out.
Ever gotten so drunk you wake up with your head pounding, holes in the walls, your weave in the mailbox, and an angry call from someone's grandma telling you she aired out the tires in her relative's car so you wouldn't steal it?
Oh you have... Then your name is probably... censored, as all of the names are in my blogs. So I'll call her Mama.
It was a normal weekday... a Thusday I believe, recalling the walk I had in the morning to get to French class. I had a new friend, Mama, and she was kinda like me in all ways that were obvious- loud, obnoxious, and friendly. Of course we hit it off!
I remember when we were welcoming her from across the states in our little home upstairs in Diggy's apartment. She was so excited to meet everyone, but when she saw me for the first time, we both started screaming, jumping up and down, and RAMBLED like we'd been friends for years.
Oh yes, love at first site.
So on this Thursday, Mama says to me, "I just wanna get drunk!" Very excitedly.
"I'm not angry, depressed, I've never drank a whole lot before, why not?!"
"Bottle of vodka in my trunk." I smiled at her.
"Ooooh! We gotta get prepared for this, Tibby!!"
So we did. You'd swear we had the pre-drunk munchies. We went to the nearest grocery and bought biscuits, chips, cheetos, cookies, and lots of orange juice. You know, delicious mixing purposes. We get back to the apartment, the guys are doing as they always did, always have done, and probably as they will always do- play some COD.
We make the biscuits and Mama is so excited, "Should I be scared?" She smiled.
"Nah, I'll take good care of you. We're just gonna mow down and drink, no big."
Foreshadowing..
We didn't even wait for the biscuits to cool before we shoved them in plastic baggies, mouths, and some in our chip bags. Of our bottles of orange juice, we drink about halfway, naturally, and pour the deliciousness into the bottle. Took a couple shots from the bottle (okay fine a few) then we walk to the park and here is where the magic starts..
I have been blessed with a cast iron tolerance, so yeah, for me this is "nothing to worry about". For my chocolate sister... girl had another thing comin. We sit down at the halfpipe of the park, our snacks around us like some kind of offering to the gods and begin talking.
Time lapse~
I notice her motions are getting a little shifty, "Hey, mama, we should start walkin back."
"Yeah but it's so nice outside!"
At this moment, she gets up and almost biffs just standing there.
Oh boy.
"I gotta peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Tibbyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!"
"The bathrooms are right over there," pointing in the directions of them.
We wander over to the bathrooms and dispose of our garbage. I was rather impressed we downed a whole can of biscuits, two bags of salty goodness, and enough liquid to counteract it.
"The doors are locked! Whatever, I don't even care," Mama said, as she walked to the front of the restrooms.
"Mama you're not... yes. Yes you are. Okay."
She doesn't even hesitate to pop a squat and start laughing her ass off, "Look! oh my gosh do you see me? BAHAHAHA dude I'm peeing on the bathrooms!"
"Yeah I see you." And I can't help but crack a giggle myself.
"It's so hot out here Tibbyyyyy."
"No it's not, you just MAMA NO!! PUT THAT BACK ON!"
She's already stripping her shirt but I notice she has a tank underneath.
"Still too hot," She says. But I coax her out of the second layer.
"Mama, we need to get you back to the apartment. It will be nice and cool there."
Those that are reading you know, you KNOW you can not argue with a drunk. If they say it's hot, then it IS and you say anything to appeal to them. If they say they don't care, then you damn well agree and say they don't care and coax them to sit down in a damn chair with a straight jacket. I, however, did not have one of those and I was freezing balls.
"I want more vodka!" She said.
"Well, there's more back at the apartment. We gotta walk that way to get there though."
It's more than a few blocks away and what seemed as a short walk before was now crossing into the New World.
"Tibbbyyyyyy, where are weeeeee?"
"Mama, we've only walked a block." I look back, gestering at the park.
"Oh, bwahahahahhahaaaaaa."
She tries to call her brother and I tell her he's probably sleeping.
"BUT HE LOVES ME!"
So she calls him, and I explain she's schwasty. He was a good sport and laughed it off.
Fastforward
We get to the apartment, but she didn't want to go in, knowing where the drink is, still in my trunk.
"You said so! You said so!" She yelled.
Okay, prepare to be mindfucked.
"Mama, it's upstairs, remember? We took it up when we took the biscuits up."
"O YEAH!! TO THE KITCHEN!" She said, but not before falling on the cement. Nothing bad, just kinda sat on the driveway.
"I have too much hair, you know that? It gets so hot and sticky!"
She tussles her own hair, but it messes up an extension. What better to do than to pull it out right? Wrong. She unravelled some kind of maze of weave.
"Uh oh..." She said.
"Let me help." Kinda laughing at the predicament. Okay so fine, I had a drunk moment myself and didn't know where to put her hair to keep it safe. "I'm gonna put these in the mailbox so we remember okay?" Boy was I wrong.
I get her up the stairs to the apartment.
Things are fine until she sees Diggy... they kinda had a thing once, but were friends at the time.
Drunk Mama didn't think so.
"Wake up! Wake up! It's me!" She said to him, petting his hair.
You know, we're gonna skip this whole part. It went on for hours. Me pulling her away, trying to calm her, she woke up the whole house, she tried climbing DOWN the stairs, I tried to hold on, then let go because she was being so agressive, she fell down a flight the first time and made a hole in the wall at the bottom of the stairs with her head.
I'm not gonna lie. I laughed my ass off. She did too, she had superman strength in her drunkness. She crawled back up the stairs then wanted to go down AGAIN! I didn't try to stop her this time. I just watched. And again, down the stairs.
Diggy at this point asks, "Is she falling down the stairs?"
"Yeah man."
He started giggling, "That's so awesome." Then went into his bedroom to get some sleep.
More hours of this and I've already sobered up. Unknowing of what to do with a crazy chocolate on my hands, I put her in the car and bring her to her dorm room.
Little did I know, not the smartest thing.
Her cousin was in the room and woke up to Mama screaming.
"What is wrong with her?" She asked.
"She's a crazy drunk. Good to know for future reference."
We get her into some clean clothes and lay her down. She goes through the motions, puking, crying, puking, sleeping, shivering, and I thought it was all in the clear.
"Keep the glass of water next to her for when she wakes. She's gonna want to keep hydrated."
And I walked back to Diggy's because we always walked together in the morning for French. I got a few hours of sleep and we started to walk.
"Sorry she woke you up man."
"It happens."
And we start bullshitting on our way to class when I get a phone call.
"Is this who they call Thibodeaux?"
The lady on the other end is making this sound like some sketchy drug deal.
"Yes ma'am."
She sounded surprised, either from the fact that I'm a gal, or because I was so polite.
"This is (Mama's) grandmother. I want you to know her cousin called me and she is now in my care. I have no idea what you two got into last night but I am very disappointed. I have a right mind just to call the police."
"Yes ma'am."
"And I have located her car and aired out the tires, so don't think about taking it anywhere."
"Yes ma'am. She has the keys in her room."
"I have no idea what you thought you were doing. I should press charges but I need time to think."
"Yes ma'am."
"Well good bye."
And she hung up the phone. "Who was that?" Diggy asked.
"Her grandma" I said, he knew who I was talking about.
"Yeah? She got (Mama)?"
"Yeah, said she might press charges. For supplying a minor."
"Oh... wait but you're not even..." He looks at me questioningly.
"No. I got it in Canada."
We both start laughing. "Dude, don't sweat it."
So I didn't. But that day when Mama came up to me crying, asking what happened, I had to explain the whole night. By the end of the tale, she was done crying and started laughing. "Psssh that's not so bad! My grandma made it sound like I did something dangerous!"
Don't drink and walk kids, or you might wake up with a hole in the wall and your weave in the mailbox.
Which by the way, we didn't even remember until a couple weeks later when we saw something furry poking out of the side of the mailbox. We laughed so hard when we pulled it out.
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