code_red

*sigh* okay, im a little hung over, but here it goes: the rundown of my birthday, starting at 12:01 on sept 5th.

12:01am: After drinking for the last 4 hours, I went to cherrybombs to have my first legal drink... where I did a few shots and had a brew with my best friend dharmanavy. We left when the bar closed around 1:30am. Then we went home and drank some more, and stopped around 3am. I didnt do much more after that, cause I passed out.

All day long on my birthday, I didnt do shit but hang around my apartment and do laundry. I was going to hit up a fuck load of bars, but unfortunately i didnt have any clean clothes, and you cant go bar hopping without clean underwear... its just not right. Although I must admit that I have a new love for going commando.

Finally, at around 9pm after my nieghbors cooked me an AWESOME little dinner for my birthday, I went into gaslamp to see the hype. I hit up two irish pubs which I know are good, but they were pretty dead last night. Went to go to a third, but the guy wouldn't accept my military ID and started bugging me for my state license. This is the convo that ensued between me and the bouncer:

BOUNCER: Do you have a state-issued ID?
ME: Yea.
BOUNCER: Can I see it?
ME: Why?
BOUNCER: *sigh* sir, if you dont show it, i cant let you in. military IDs must be accompanied with a drivers license.
ME: Wait, let me get this straight, my GENEVA CONVENTIONS ID CARD... is okay to save my ass in war, but can't get me a brew in your bar?
BOUNCER: Well, it doesnt have your hieght/wieght info on it, and that's what I need to see.
ME: Yea, cause you cant tell its me from that picture. *rolls eyes*
So I show it to him, he lets me in, and then im looking at the bar... getting ready to order, when Mr. Bouncer-fuck-head-im-stupid-and-a-tool comes back and asks to see my ID again, because he doesnt think im 21. I told him that I dont want to drink at his bar, I will never drink at his bar, and I will make sure that everyone I know never drinks at his bar because of him. He sat staring at me and told me that if I dont show him the ID, I have to leave. so I left, and went home.

I parked the car, walked down to cherrybombs, and drank some more. This cool guy Jason was working the bar and asked to see my ID. I show it, he smiles when he sees the date of birth, buys me a shot, and then screams out to the entire bar of vagabonds and ruffians about how its my birthday. Next thing I know, every tattoo'd devil in the place is tapping me on the shoulder telling me about how he remembers me being 21, congrats, and buying me shot. after shot. after shot. I was really shy but after talking to Jason, I cooled down and put on some Tool on the jukebox (which, by the way, had the best selection in music I have ever seen in a bar). All of the sudden I feel the motivation for a cig, so I go bum a smoke off of bartender Jason, and go outside. All of the sudden this chick wonders out, shakes my hand, and starts asking all of us who put on the tool. I admitted that it was I. She starts exclaiming so much happiness that I thought she was going to pee herself. "I love tool! me and my boyfriend sit around listening to it all the time! so great!" and then she disappears.

She comes back out about 10mins later while in discussing tool with another patron and asks if anyone plays foosball(?) I admit that I do. So I got recruited to play 2 on 2 foosball with her (who later tells me her name is angela), her man troy, and this other cat named jessie. all of which were really cool... troy was especially cool cause he bought me a shot, which i promptly downed and could feel bubbling in my stomach. so I dove into the bathroom, under the guise of having to pee, and puke. luckily, I am still decent, so i wash my face and mouth and head back out. Me and Jessie played marvelously, but despite the fact that we were drunk and with the aid of a no-spinning rule... we lost. twice.

I ended up hanging out with those three for the next 30 mins or so before they left, then asked angela for her number so we could all hang out again at the bar. I said "Not to be disrespectful to you or your man, but can I get your number so I can chill with you folks over here again? If not, thats cool..." she couldnt stop laughing and telling me im cute. now, let me explain my actions: I dont like getting the shit kicked out of me. I enjoy peoples company. when you make it clear your not hitting on a girl, especially when her man is standing right there, everyone is on even ground, and Code Red's face stays in one piece. I learned this from expierence, trust me.

So they bounced out, I went Pure Platinum strip club where I got a dance from this chick named janie. I found out later that her stage name is nadia, and she admitted to me that she was, in fact, extremely drunk and coming down from being stoned. She was going buck wild giving me a lap dance, but i asked her to stop and just chill and talk with me. so we talked. she told me about her two kids, about how she lives in mexico, and how she was in the army, as a MP. Very nice girl who I would gladly take out to dinner... She didnt even charge me for the lap dance, but I paid her $40 out of courtesy and cause she was uber-cool with her half sleeve rocking out.

I then proceeded to stumble home cause the strip club (like everything in san diego) closed at 2am. I stopped at a 7-11 and bought some mac and cheese because I was craving it, but I was too drunk to cook it when I got home, so I made a PB+J sandwich and a creme cheese bagel, and put on Old School on the tele. It was about 3:30 when I crashed, then I woke up for work at 7, and got the rest of the week off to chill out before my deployment. it was a really great night, I couldnt have asked for better people to share it with, and I can only hope that the next 11 days fare to be just as cool. Now that I am done writing this novel, I am going to go ahead and crash... I will be surprised if ONE person reads this, let alone leaves a comment. Take care, -Red.