binge drinking sans smokey-treats

Let me me just start off by saying that our seats weren’t nearly as close as I thought they were going to be. Which is probably a good thing as some chick wearing what looked like a green fem-bot outfit ran into me & my Cabernet and I started the night off with a bright red stain on my white shirt. I’m not sure Jay-Z or Anderson would have taken to my drunken slob style.

And yes, the title utilizes the words “binge” drinking. I realize that at thirty, I should be an elegant sipper of spirits. However, while experiencing withdraw of a very tactile addiction —I POUNDED ‘EM DOWN on Saturday night. I must’ve thought that I was in a contest to be the most loudest, belligerent, clumsy, slit-eyed, obnoxious, annoying, in-need-of-a-baby-sitter lady in the room.

I think I won.

The V.I.P. section was very nice. Free grub, free drinks and a sundae buffet. I’m surprised I didn’t shove the guy working the soft serve out of the way and attempt a keg stand of sorts with that thing. I don’t think I was quite that sloshed yet. If I had met him a little later in the night I definitely would have. Aaaand I would have given him some ridiculous speech about how I worked at an ice cream shop in high-school, so not only did I know everything there was to know about ice cream, but that I pretty much knew everything about everything else under the sun. Yeah, I’m a real treat when I’m bobble-head Stacey.

After about five glasses of Cabernet and a beer the Cavs game had come to a glorious end. It was a very exciting game. They won by one point and of course crossed the 100 point threshold :: FREE Taco Bell Chalupas for everyone!!! That should have been it. That should have been the end of Drunkfest ’10. (I haven’t gotten used to that yet. I kinda want to say O-10.) Apparently I thought I was the parade marshal screaming traffic directions out the window in the parking garage while Joann held back her own urge: Shoving a giant sock in my mouth. Nonetheless we trucked on to the Lacrosse fundraiser that my friends Billy and Brian were attending.

I am a beer and wine girl. Always have been. As mentioned earlier, it really has to be a special occaision for me to do a shot. I’m a lot less of a stickler about it since I have been tending bar, but I have always felt that a night out is marathon, not a race. I cannot stand loosing control of shizz, not remembering things or just plain being a scene. I can hang until the wee hours of the morning chugging me Miller Lites. However, I have been doing so good not smoking, I am just too afraid to drink a beer… They just go together like chips and salsa, romeo and juliet, JD and chocolate bear, etc… you get the idea.

The next morning my friend Joann assessed that before she changed (babysitting) guard with my sister who came out after work that I had consumed approximately five vodka 7-ups. (They just went down sooo easy.) Apparently I had at least three more after she left. Perfect time to be introduced to someone that my friend Billy has been attempting to set me up with, Mr. HSIBL. Handsome. Sweet. Irish. Blue-Eyed. Lacrosse Player. I’m sure we had some kind of conversation, but all I can really recall is saying to Billy is, “That’s nice. He seems sweet. I’m really more interested in someone that I can punch in the face.”  He took me over to another crowd of boys that I undoubtedly impressed with my wine stain and complete inability to form sentences. I really hope that Mr. HSIBL didn’t pick up on any of this, but I most likely wasn’t using my inside voice. A great first impression, no doubt.

So, you’re wondering, “Did drunky have a smoke?” I can’t recall a time in that I have been this wasted that I haven’t smoked about ten thouuusaaaand cigarettes. As the fundraiser dissolved, I told my sister what I thought would be really fun was to hit the streets and shake someone down for a cigarette. “Come on! It’d be so much fun! We could smoke so many cigarettes, it would be the most fun we ever had!” Luckily she stood her ground and was able to talk me out of it. She did, however, relay to me the next morning that when she walked out of the bar she saw me talking to some dude who was holding a lit cigarette up to my mug. She says I never took a hit, mostly because she tackled me as soon as she spotted me, but said that I had a look on my face like I was debating my choices. I have no recollection, of course, of any of this happening. I would love to have been a fly on the wall of the drunken conversation of the angel and devil on my shoulders. I betcha at that point in the night, I probably had two devils on my shoulders. So there you have it. I made it a week. I know I should be severely punished for the close call that would have ruined everything if my babysitter hadn’t been there. But still I made it a week!

So that was my big debut as non-smoking Stacey. I’ll need to practice my marathon vs. sprinting drinking before the next time I take it to the house. And hopefully next time I won’t awake in the morning with my boots on my nightstand.

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1 Response to “binge drinking sans smokey-treats”



  1. 1 Brief Update « Zero Cigarettes for 365 days Trackback on February 25, 2010 at 8:25 pm

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