Drinking, It’s not just for children anymore

Posted by Single Steve | 3 comments

********Old Blog, Back Posting**********

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Have you ever waken up and just felt ashamed? Like you aren’t sure why you feel ashamed of what ever you did last night, but you just know you should. Maybe it’s not just ashamed, maybe it’s like 50 percent ashamed and 50 percent embarrassed.

This morning I woke up and I was over come with this fantastic feeling. Why?

Maybe it was because this morning I woke up still wearing what I wore out the night before? Or maybe the fact that I still had my shoes on? Was it because my mouth tasted like I ate a bucket of sand before going to bed? I don’t think it was because I woke up on a friends couch, I do that all the time. I did how ever wake up covered in straws, yes straws. Drinking straws. It was a little unusual, but I still don’t think that’s why I felt so ashamed/embarrassed. As I got up and walked out the front I started shifting through my pockets for my keys. . . .BINGO.

I had found the reason why I should be ashamed. Finally.
What did I discover deep within my front right pocket?

Carne Asada. That’s right, carne fucking asada, IN my pocket. WHAT!? No this isn’t one of those “I’m soooo Mexican that. . . ” jokes. I literally, yes literally, woke up with carne asada IN my pockets.

What the hell did I do last night that I ended up with chunks of grilled steak meat IN my pocket!?
So to recap:

I’ve done this before(Best Date Ever Blog!!), and I want to try this again. Let’s Quentin Tarantino this situation. Let’s start at the beginning of the night and see if we just can figure out how exactly we got to the “Anatomy of Steven this Morning” situation.

So let’s start off with what happened. Actually let’s start off with what DIDN’T happen. What didn’t happen was, was I didn’t eat dinner.
Strike 1.
I left work about an hour early for happy hour with some co workers, had a quick 2 glasses of always delicious blue moon. After that I made my way to my company drinking softball league. I’m not actually what you call “good”, I’m more the guy that shows up to play the minimum 3 innings, drink beer and meet people. Had a few more drinks. It’s a good time had by all. After that I went home for approximately 3.2 minutes changed my clothes and was off to Linedoggies (AKA Moondoogies). Nothing really happens for a long time, besides me drinking an obscene amount. But to be fair, I had notified all my friends I was with that tonight was I was in “black out mode”. I don’t know how me telling my friends my intent to drink a lot actually justifies me drinking a ridiculous amount . But what ever helps you sleep at night. So yeah, basically I drink a lot, I mean at two dollar you call it’s, how can I be drinking a lot. I have to make up for the nights that they run their other special of “Nine dollar beer night”.

Here comes a funny story of me being a drunk fool:
So at some point I get a text message from a female friend asking what I was up to and where I was at.

Some back ground about this friend: She is actually someone I met through my myspace blogs. Yep. The system works. She’s funny, attractive and seems like a cool person. We’ve had the lunch and met up a couple times in PB. I’m always down to meet new cool people in San Diego. We haven’t like hooked up or made out or anything, you know just hanging out.

So anyways she tells me she’s in line and coming in. I’m pretty stoked. Because at this point I’ve had about twenty of the two dollar you call its and I’m stoked about every thing.

Here’s the scoop. I’m not really sure where I stand with things like this. Like does she call/text me at because she “likes” me, or she just wants to hang out as friends. I’m COMPLETELY and utterly clueless, maybe that’s why I “gay friend zone” myself with all my girlfriends. Anyways in my extremely drunken stooper, I figure there is a slight chance(slight chance that is now probably aZERO. . .ha, well get there) that she, pretty girl in San Diego, might,might is the key word, want to make out with me. I know, I know, sounds ridiculous, but please bare with me.

Seeing how I haven’t made out with anyone in over 6 months, this is a rare opportunity.Yes you heard me, 6 months. Well there was once in that time but we were in no condition to be remembering things, and if you ask her she might not even verify it happened. Don’t even get me started on sex, because I’m pretty sure I might be a born again virgin. Anyways, not the point. NOT the point.

Point is, said girl is coming to the same location that I am existing at and my drunken mind set is telling me there is slight chance she might not be completely appalled at the idea of kissing me. Things are looking up.
For this portion of the story there’s two versions of the story. There’s what my drunk ass think happened. And then probably what actually happened.

Here’s my drunk version of story:
I’m at the bar. I casually pull out my phone and notice said girl has sent me a text message letting me know she’s inside. I calmly stroll over to where she said she’s located. I gently bump her on the shoulder and give her a welcome and hello. I notice she’s with dude, and I think she was holding his hand.
Just then it was probably the most awkward silence I have felt in a long time. It felt like all the music had stopped, and there’s was nothing but silence and stares for at least 8 minutes. I was probably standing there for at least 10 minutes. I said something to the extent of”well I’ll see you later” and casually walked off.

Here’s what probably actually happened:
I’m at the bar(yeah that part stays the same). It takes me probably about 2 minutes of digging through my pockets to determine which one of things in my pocket is actually my phone. I pull out my phone, glare at it with one eye close, you know doing that drunk stare. You close one eye because somehow you think that’s actually going to increase your ability to see. I see that said girl has text. I stumble over to the area she say’s located, I’m sure I bumped into at least 20 people on my voyage to the other side of the bar. In my version of the story I mentioned how I gently nudge her on the shoulder, but in reality in my haze I’m sure it was more like a hard shove to the back.I’m not even sure if I spoke any cohiernt words to her. I’m almost positive my “welcome and hello”, was more like a chubaka war cry.

So there was a dude standing behind her, I’m not actually sure he was holding her hand, he may or may not have been just in line to get a drink.I was probably only swaying there next to her for no more then 30 seconds before decided there was an awkward silence and left.

So that’s where the stories differ.
BUT, who cares if she was holding that guys hand!? I shouldn’t! right? I mean I’ve met this cool chick a few times, we’ve never even hugged, why would I be all Jealous Jill if she was holding some dudes hand?? Who knows. Alcohol?

I’m sure she just wants to hang out and make the jokes, that’s my forte and what I like doing.
The story gets better. At some point later in the night I text her:

Seriously!!! Hahaha! Man I’m ridiculous. What!? “UR cut”, who am I Donald Trump, with the “You’re Fired!”. Apparently I’m a mean drunk? Or just a dumb one.And by me sending her this message assumes that she was at some point UNcut. Like there was a chance she was thinking the same drunkenness I was thinking. I don’t even have the right to “cut” this poor girl out of the fantastic that would be making out with me. She probably got this message and was sooo confused. Actually this was her response a little later that night:

Exactly my thoughts. You can tell by the number of exclamation marks she is as equally as confused. Poor thing. I just hope she didn’t read my message and think that I was actually talking about cutting her with real knives. She was probably thinking “Oh shit, why does this Mexican want to cut me?”. So that was that. She actually text me today, she didn’t mention hating me. Maybe it will be okay? And I realize that she is probably going to read this and it will make more sense to her, and I will hopefully be able to work my way up from “Dude that wants to cut her” status to “funny friend from the internet” status.

Oh the night continues. Or so I’ve been told. Bar closes down and we stumble our way down to the shitty 24 hour Mexican food. Which surprisingly isn’t so shitty at 2 in the morning. We get our food, and on our way out apparently I think it’s a great idea to grab about 100 straws in my hands and stumble out of the place. I guess as soon as we made it outside I threw them all up in the air like I felt it needed to be raining straws. I’m surprised I didn’t get beat up, I guess I was throwing straws at random people and then proceeding to giggle like a little school girl. Somehow, somehow we managed to make our way back to our friends house(I sleep on his couch at least twice a week. . .) and gorge on the delicious meal at hand. Now I’m not actually sure how or when the carne asada went from being inside my burrito to nesting it’s way into my right pocket. Perhaps I thought it would be a tasty treat in the morning? I fell asleep at some point, and this is how I got to the “Anatomy of Steven this Morning” situation.

Now that I’ve scared away anyone who might want to be my friend. . . .I promise I’m not a Jealous Jill. Thats why this situation was so ridiculous.
Anyone want to go see Shrek 3? I want to go, but I don’t want to go with my dude friends. Just throwing it out there. . .

Leave a comment if
-you have equally ridiculous stories.
-you’d like to comment and tell me how ridiculous I am
-you were there that night and have more details of what actually happened
-general comments about funniness
-you don’t want me to cry myself to sleep tonight
If you thought this was funny, maybe you should tell your friends? I won’t be offened if you tell your friends to read this blog as well. really.