Well, I blew it. All the training in the world would not have properly prepared me for the festivities on this St. Patty’s Day. Let’s do a recap of the day, and see where I went wrong:
10:00AM: Show up at my friends’ apartment in South Boston. I’m the first one to show up for this shindig, and I waste no time getting after it. I pour myself a beer from the keg, and expertly drop one drop of green food dye into it to get this party started right.
10:15AM: After second green beer, I think out loud “maybe I should slow down – don’t want to over-do it too early”. Promptly get made fun of by one of the female partiers… and immediately grab a 3rd beer.
11:30AM: Party’s really going at this point. Lots of friends, and good times all around. Beer drinking games begin. A**hole is being played in one room, and other games in other rooms. I go back and forth between rooms. I enjoy myself a good drinking game. Learn a new game where I must drink every time the word “thunder” is sang during “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC. This is the best game I've ever played.
11:32AM: Celebrate the finishing of said drinking game with a few green Jell-O shots. Things clearly can’t go wrong.
11:35AM: Repeat “Thunderstruck” game.
12:50AM: The keg is empty. We all donate money for a beer run… Thank God there are still Jell-O shots to hold us over. Memory is starting to fade at this point.
1:15PM: Friends arrive with cases of beer. 6 cases to be exact. Decide to celebrate by shot gunning beers on the patio. Clearly, there’s a lot to celebrate today.
1:15PM – 3:30PM: I’ll be honest with you. I’m not 100% clear on what happened during these hours. I can virtually guarantee, however, that drinking was involved.
3:30PM: Uh Oh. All of a sudden, I’m not feeling fantastic. I need to either lie down, or throw-up… or both? Immediately go into friend’s bedroom, and lie down on her bed. Didn’t have the energy to take off my boots (sorry, Brie!). Some good Samaritan witnessed this, and took off my boots for me.
3:45PM: Still not feeling well. Time to call a cab. Apparently cabs in South Boston are hard to find on St. Patty’s Day. Time for plan B – go back inside and lie down for a bit longer.
4:30PM: Still not feeling great. Start thinking that the green eggs and ham in the morning may have been a bad call. Of course, it may have something to do with the booze over the past 6 hours. Drastic times call for drastic measures. I call Wifey and ask her to pick me up. She agrees.
5:00PM: Wifey calls. She’s outside. I say my ‘goodbyes’ and thank the hosts. My friend decides that she needs to see Wifey before I go, so she runs outside, and opens the door to the car. It’s not the right car. It’s good to see that I’m not the only drunk one.
5:30PM: - 11:00PM: Sober up, a little. Wifey makes me delicious dinner. I go to sleep.
7:00AM the next day: Wake up for work. Not feeling my best. Begin countdown till next St. Patty’s Day. Only 364 days to go.
Here’s the hosts message to a mutual friend:
Host: we went through a keg, 6 thirties, 5 bottles of wine, a bottle of tequilla, and multiple random bottles of vodka we had here. F***ing ridiculous.
- Jack Asher
Hilarious. and also when i went to say "hi" to katie, i opened the door of the unknown car and said to a middle aged man- "you're not katie!!" Whalen and I went to bed around 9pm. I slept for FOURTEEN hours Sunday night. That's a record for me. What a great day.
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