Waking up with a hangover this morning definitely wasn't fun, AT ALL..
but being at the party last night sure was crazy.
I have to admit, I was in a terrible state though. And after it all, I never ever want to touch a single ounce of alcohol, AGAIN.
It's so bad. I don't even want to think about it.
4 shots of vodka, 4 glasses of moet, 3 shots of amaretto topped up with cider. All was fine until Mohit came along and chugged a quarter of a bottle of JD down my throat. Hmmm, if I did my calculations right, that's about the same as 7 shots. Man, that was like the knockout punch delivered by Mike Tyson.
It's weird though, how liquor gives you this innane boost of courage to do shit you never thought was possible. Such as running into walls and trying to do Capoeira on the dance floor. It was a good thing I didn't try to impersonate Olympic class Hurdlers.
Being an invalid is possible when you're drunk. Paralyzed from the waist up, and retarded from the waist down.
All the while, your brain's functioning and you hear people. You don't move but everything else around you does. Your legs wobble and you stagger; I had to be assisted out of MOS last night (which was crazy) by Julian. And here were some of the lines I heard him tell me:
1) "Sherwin! Sherwin! Can you hear me?? Wake up! Wake up! (and he slaps me on the face but I can't feel it or move)
I then get up miraculously before finding the dustbin for a quick game of hurling (not curling) and follow after Julian and Manish to the VIP room.
2) "Hereeee we go..nice comfy couch, nice comfy couch"
3) "Sherwin..Sherwin! Listen to me..we gotta get you outta here before you get banned from the club."
Wow, I never knew sleeping on a couch while being drunk in the VIP room would entitle me to that.
Then on, I am put into a fireman's carry by Julian and my ass is hauled outta club and he brings me to the main road to get a cab. His last words were,
4) "Look, we're gonna get you a cab, we're gonna get you home. Are you gonna be all right? Do you know how to get home??"
and I remember nodding him and giving him reassurance before I black out again.
It's weird. How alcohol screws up your body. Yet my brain was allowed to keep working; somehow being aware of my surroundings. It was almost like a paradoxical joke- My brain laughing at my body, "Haha! Look at you now!"
THAT'S where I remembered that the scoundrel of a cabby took me on a prolonged route home and cheated me of 3 bucks worth of cab fare.
You assholes at Comfort DelGro listen up..whether or not your fares are de-regulated by the LTA, you should buck up on your drivers' integrity!
Fare hike justified my balls..It just makes things worse. Then again, things couldn't have been anymore worse than holding back my puke in preventing it from landing all over the back of my bald taxi driver's head.
I swear, that was the FIRST TIME in TWENTY YEARS, I had ever been so drunk. Before that, I had never vomitted so bad, and neither had I swayed better than Michael Bublé's rendition of the same title.
If only I could've seen the look on my face last night for being able to see yourself shitfaced would be ABSOLUT-LY PRICELESS.
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Sunday, July 16, 2006
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