It’s Official
I got drunk over the weekend. After last August, I vowed that I would never drink again, but sometimes promises you make to yourself have to be broken. Let me enlighten you by taking a trip down memory lane. It was 3:00 in the morning last August. Matt was driving us home. I was riding shotgun, and Parks and Adam were passed out in the backseat. I had to throw up really bad, but instead of stopping on the side of the road, Matt decided to drive really fast, so that we would get home faster. We were only 5 minutes away when I decided that I could not wait any longer. I rolled down the window, pulled my hair back, and horked for a few blocks. Adam woke up during the excitement and started to bitch. "Bergs, roll up your window! Why are you driving through a sprinkler?" Parks looked at him and said, "Cover your face. It’s Nancy. She’s trying to puke out the window!" It is rumored that after Parks said that, I turned around and started to laugh hysterically and point at Adam who was covered in my puke. The next morning, I promised myself that I would never drink again. I felt bad for Adam, and I felt like shit. Well, our dear friend is moving away this week to Denver. We had a party, so I decided to make an exception. I am proud to say that after last night it is humanly possible for me to consume too much alcohol without throwing up. Thank you very much.
posted by nancy @ 3/20/2005 02:30:00 PM
1 Comments:
When I was living in Colorado Springs my friends and I decided to take a road trip into the mountains to a place called Cheyenne Canyon. We picked up 3 cases of Coors because back then I think it was the state beer. I don't ever remember drinking water in those days come to think of it. Mostly beer. So went on a hike. Loaded all the beer into our backpacks and off we went. It was pretty slow going as you can imagine packing all that beer. We worked up quite a sweat in the first mile or so and decided to head back. We ended up sitting on the hood of the car talking about girls, where we were headed in life and typical friend BS. We were flat out wasted by the time the sun went down and headed back to town. Beer and winding roads do not mix well. I mean it's fun at first. We had just hit the interstate when the silence was shattered by PULL OVER! Bob jumps out and heaves causing Mike to do the gag reflex and I had to plug my ears and turn away. So no big deal right? We start piling back in the car and Mike stepped in it not realizing what it was and began wiping it off with his hand causing Bob to heave once more. So there's Bob at the back of the car, one hand on the trunk head down mere inches from the road horking it up. I'm standing at the front end of the car faced away singing Rocky Mountain High to myself trying not to listen. Next thing I know I hear a semi coming up behind us. I turn and this is where everything moves in slow motion. Bob's head is like right over the yellow line, the semi is right there blowing his horn, Mike is yelling at Bob to move. Bob has this long thick string of puke running from his mouth to the ground. The semi flys by. The string of puke sails out to the side hangs there for a second (I dove for cover) before whipping around his face, hair, neck, shoulders at least 16 times. Those were the days.
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