Saturday, June 18, 2005

Same game, different players

::Sighs:: It was a long night. I'm pooped.

Paul had to work late (sometime after 3 a.m.) to get ready for his trip to Houston. Jeremy, bless his soul, managed to wrangle a night away from his wife, so he came over to help me clean out the liquor cabinet and watch the one remaining episode each of The Venture Bros. and Robot Chicken. (Seth Green is cool ... but, dude, Matt Senreich roxors my boxers. Mmm ... Toyfare-y goodness. ::drool::)

So Jer and I start with one hell of a rum runner (which also used a half-liter of Grey Goose between the two of us). Then we progressed to double shots of Disaronno and Chambord. Well, he failed to inform me that (a.) he hadn't eaten in like a day and a half, and (b.) he's got the ulcer from hell. So he ended up passed out on the floor of my half-bath, out of cigarettes, with pink puke everywhere. Took me a while to realize it was Pepto-Bismol. (Incidentally, that link is worth clicking on just to play with the Pepto-Bismol Dance Machine.) Well, he was in no condition to ride in my car all the way back to his place, so he crashed in Matt's bed. And he didn't call his wife. >_< (Why do I feel like I'm going to catch hell from her for that? ::sigh::)

Now, see, Matt and I bought $150 worth of booze a week and a half before he left town. And Matt, as we all know, can get pretty sloppy drunk. So the whole point of cleaning out the liquor cabinet was to mitigate the amount of alcohol before Matt came back. So why did it feel like I was taking care of Matt all over again? I tried to (nicely) explain it to Jer this morning ... I've never been much of a drinker, and most of my friends don't drink or only socially drink. So the extent of my experience dealing with drunk folks is from some friends in college (like MD, who puked all over the bathroom wall in his dorm room, leaving a stain that was still there when he and Paul graduated two years later).

Eh, I handled it the best way I knew how. I poked him with my toe. "Err, Jer (poke poke), hon ... are you (poke poke) ... are you okay?" And when he didn't respond, I sought advice online from Paul and Carrie and Matthew and Sammy. (Incidentally, the joke has floated around my circles [AC and SA] that we are all overly dependent on 'Net conjecture: "Hey, guys, my girlfriend just broke her arm, the bone's sticking out, and there's blood everywhere. So, um, do you think I should call a doctor?") Fortunately, it all turned out okay ... but like I said, I'm tired.

By the way, readership is way up, so thanks guys. I'm getting unique hits out the wazoo and I don't even know what a wazoo is. Now I'm off to write some SQL to query my iTunes database, then have a pre-Father's Day dinner with Mom and Dad and Paul.

By the way, if you haven't checked out the Kate-centric posts at S&BII and M's Cave, you should. ::grins:: All the love without any of the fat, calories or guilt. Peace and love, kiddos.

2 Comments:

Blogger StargazerGirl said...

Heh. YOU think YOU have little experience with drunken peeps. You asked a person who scored exceedingly (and quite frankly, embarassingly) high on the "Purity Test." While I'm all for scoring high on such a thing, it also makes me wonder if I even have a life...

6:54 PM  
Anonymous M said...

As someone who has had TONS of experience dealing with drunks and being delt with as a drunk, I can honestly say that you handeled it fine. If it's a guy passed out, the toe poking is ALWAYS the first and best way to start. Hey, as long as their breathing correctly everythings fine. For girls, well thats a little different. Them you dont want to leave lying around on the bathroom floor. Girls you help up, clean up, and get to a comfy spot as soon as possible, all the while trying not to get caught copping a feel and grabbing their ass.

OH give me a break! I'm drunk too!

9:17 PM  

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