It was a cool Saturday night in Wildwood, and the Flaherty clan descended upon the club district early. Thirsty for a brew and some good times with friends, they enter at 5pm. The bar, offering free drinks to all involved with the Southwest Football Association's annual awards ceremony, was swarmed like pirahna to a lamb shank. By 9pm, when the free draught beer was up, many a patron knew they were in for a rough night, but remain optimistic. This writer was no exception.
After the free drinks were up, I followed my cousins and siblings to the bar next door, already feeling alil tipsy. Having no money, I had to get my drinks in when they were free. I had eaten two plates of food, so I could imbibe alittle more than I normally would. Roast beef sandwichs love beer, right? I decided I would take in the scene at the next bar and not lose money on more drinks. This was the responsible thing to do, after all. That's what adults do, and I'm an adult. My ID says so. Fate, however, had a different plan.
NOT PICTURED: Sobriety
Every uncle's best friend from high school and aunt's cheerleading squadmate who was introduced to me insited on buying me a drink. How could I refuse? I may have been born a bastard, but I'm no jerk! Yes, please I'll have another Corona! You played what position in high school? You don't say? Listen, I'm not going to remember any of this tomorrow, not even your name! Just buy me another drink, I hear "Baby Got Back" starting, begone provide of booze, I must dance!
By 2am, I was done. My body could hold no more alcohol, and I was getting more confused by the minute. Most of my family had gone to sleep, and for some reason my brother was dancing with a bride. I thought, before I walk around a table and marry some Greek woman, I had better get going. I bid my brother goodnight, and head to Wawa for night cap of Snapple and a hoagie. This was the beginning of the end.
If you've never seen that episode of Full House, you're dead to me
I purchase my goods, and leave the store, walking down the block looking for a suitable place to sit and eat. At this point I'm not drunk enough to be lost. I know exactly where I'm going. Just walk straight, turn left on 16th and ta da, a bed and sleep await! I find a place to eat, and sip my Snapple, penseively. This was a good night. Didn't drink too much. Didn't throw up on anyone. Still have pants on while outside in public. Good job me. But, I do feel alittle dizzy. Let me just lay my head back for a bit and finish my tea befor...
I awake, after what feels like seconds, to a police officer yelling...
"Hey buddy! You gotta get goin' where you're goin'!!
"What? Oh, yea. Thank you."
I walk down one block and I hear my name yelled from across the street. I turn to see my mother and cousin beckoning me to get in the car. My response to their frantic yelling is not to their liking... "Wha?.. What's up?" I check my phone for the time. Bastard... it's dead. Damn Angry Birds! Why must you be so addictive! I get in the car and check the radio. My stomach drops. 4 am? How the hell..?
Damn you Rum and Ginger Ale... Damn you to hell!! You ruin yet another night, by making me "kinda pretend lost but not really because I was just sleeping on the sidewalk in Wildwood". You cheeky bastard, you. We'll meet again... and next time... I'll eat even more sandwiches. How could that possibly go wrong?
Oh, right... that