Saturday night was a buddy of mines 21st birthday and somehow, he managed to wrangle an entire club for the event with 4 separate rooms and DJs spinning Industrial, Dark wave, Post Punk and various electronic music. It was a little too on the Goth side for my tastes, but there were good people that I hadn't seen in a while and of course a bunch of black textile laden packing material that took themselves slightly too seriously.
I drank too much. I drank way too much. Sometimes I forget that Tanqueray is 94 proof until I've put back about half a liter and catch myself in the middle of what my friend Waylon referred to as a "Highly physical performance art piece based loosely on the Star Spangled Banner. - A friend of mine insisted that I commandeer one of the DJ rigs and sing a song. I pointed out that our esteemed birthday boy is spinning at the moment and that would be plain rude, but after some deliberation we came to the decision that he would pay me if I sang anyway without taking over the DJ station. "What should I sing?" I asked. "I don't know, sing anything. Sing the fucking star spangled banner." He responded. It was at that point I began twitching like an epileptic with tourettes syndrome, while skipping about the smoking room, shrieking a syncopated and off key rendition of the Star Spangled Banner. I cannot do the looks of horror on some peoples faces justice with my ability of description, but I will tell you that they got a little special extra attention. It was as if their entire voluntary faculties had been exercised to form the best "please don't come near me" look on their faces possible.
I don't remember much else of the night, but I do remember waking up this morning at 8:30 or so half clothed in my hallway. I didn't even realize I was in my hallway through the discomfort of my hangover until I opened my eyes. I righted this by crawling in to my own bed, only to be awakened a half-hour after I was supposed to be at work by a call from my manager. I had slept through my alarm. I jumped out of bed, showered, put on my work clothes and sped out the door in record time, but not fast enough to outrun the crippling wave of disorientation and nausea that hit shortly thereafter. I collapsed next to my car and emptied what little contents remained in my stomach, wiped my face and then proceeded to drive to work. Everything hurt.
At this point I would like to point out that during my hastey shuffle to get ready, I stepped on my sunglasses and broke them in half. Today was the brightest day with in recent memory. Seriously, it's been overcast and drizzly for the past week, but the day I'm hungover and without proper protection, there isn't a cloud in the sky. Delivering pizza while hung over completely redefined personal hell for me. The smells plus the constant motion and loud sounds of the road are not hangover friendly. I pulled over several times between deliveries to throw up what wasn't there. Painfully expelled glowing yellow bile. Not fun. An amusing quote from my manager: "You look really pale. I mean you always look pale, but you look particularly pale. You seriously look like hell."
I finally took my lunch break around 3:00 and went directly to 7-11 to purchase Gatorade and ibuprofen then to the donut shop across the street. I took a short 20-minute nap in my car after consuming my purchases and woke up in the best mood I've been in ever (well at least since the last time I finally recovered from a debilitating hangover). Nothing lifts your spirits quite like the sudden removal of the feeling that you wish you would just die.
I drank too much. I drank way too much. Sometimes I forget that Tanqueray is 94 proof until I've put back about half a liter and catch myself in the middle of what my friend Waylon referred to as a "Highly physical performance art piece based loosely on the Star Spangled Banner. - A friend of mine insisted that I commandeer one of the DJ rigs and sing a song. I pointed out that our esteemed birthday boy is spinning at the moment and that would be plain rude, but after some deliberation we came to the decision that he would pay me if I sang anyway without taking over the DJ station. "What should I sing?" I asked. "I don't know, sing anything. Sing the fucking star spangled banner." He responded. It was at that point I began twitching like an epileptic with tourettes syndrome, while skipping about the smoking room, shrieking a syncopated and off key rendition of the Star Spangled Banner. I cannot do the looks of horror on some peoples faces justice with my ability of description, but I will tell you that they got a little special extra attention. It was as if their entire voluntary faculties had been exercised to form the best "please don't come near me" look on their faces possible.
I don't remember much else of the night, but I do remember waking up this morning at 8:30 or so half clothed in my hallway. I didn't even realize I was in my hallway through the discomfort of my hangover until I opened my eyes. I righted this by crawling in to my own bed, only to be awakened a half-hour after I was supposed to be at work by a call from my manager. I had slept through my alarm. I jumped out of bed, showered, put on my work clothes and sped out the door in record time, but not fast enough to outrun the crippling wave of disorientation and nausea that hit shortly thereafter. I collapsed next to my car and emptied what little contents remained in my stomach, wiped my face and then proceeded to drive to work. Everything hurt.
At this point I would like to point out that during my hastey shuffle to get ready, I stepped on my sunglasses and broke them in half. Today was the brightest day with in recent memory. Seriously, it's been overcast and drizzly for the past week, but the day I'm hungover and without proper protection, there isn't a cloud in the sky. Delivering pizza while hung over completely redefined personal hell for me. The smells plus the constant motion and loud sounds of the road are not hangover friendly. I pulled over several times between deliveries to throw up what wasn't there. Painfully expelled glowing yellow bile. Not fun. An amusing quote from my manager: "You look really pale. I mean you always look pale, but you look particularly pale. You seriously look like hell."
I finally took my lunch break around 3:00 and went directly to 7-11 to purchase Gatorade and ibuprofen then to the donut shop across the street. I took a short 20-minute nap in my car after consuming my purchases and woke up in the best mood I've been in ever (well at least since the last time I finally recovered from a debilitating hangover). Nothing lifts your spirits quite like the sudden removal of the feeling that you wish you would just die.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
datsun:
glad you're feeling better now.... when are we going to hang out?
retroactivwe:
I would kill for the footage of your performance,