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As I teased yesterday, I reached a new low while in San Diego. A new drinking low. Now, most of you who know me, know that I will have a few drinks but I will not normally get really drunk. Buzzed, but not really drunk. Sometimes I do, but it’s not normal.
I got to San Diego on a Friday evening. I had no had anything to eat all day except for a 6 chicken nuggets at McDs at the airport. So my friends pick me up and drag me to down town San Diego to go out. I’m excited to see them, they are excited to see me. Let’s have a few drinks.
What I didn’t know until the next day was that they had been ordering all of my drinks as doubles. So for all practical purposes, I had been drinking twice as much as them. I was wondering why I was getting so drunk so quickly. But I was having fun and new drinks kept appearing in my hand.
The last bar we went to was a blur. I remember leaving, but I do not remember how I got to the car. Thankfully we had a designated driver. They put me on the back where I guess I went to sleep.
Then we drove to Jack in the Box for their magically delicious tacos. 2 for 99 cents. They are the perfect drunken food.
I opened my eyes and I felt that I needed to throw up. So, in my druken state, I reached for the door and it was locked. So I somehow found the button to roll the window down. Except that it was one of those children safety windows (think of the children!) so it only rolled down half way. And there I am, drunk, trying to stick my head out the window. Throwing up. In a drive through. With my face barely sticking out of the window.
Someone is screaming “David! You are throwing up!”. Someone steps out of the car to start peeing by the speaker box. All I’m thinking while puking is “I hope there is no one behind us.” The designated driver couldn’t hear the guy on the speaker because of all the noise that we were all making.
Finally we get our tacos and drive home. I don’t remember anything else. The next day I was told that I went to the bathroom to throw up again. But then come out of the bathroom with my pants around my ankles, walking fast saying, non stop, “I want tacos! I want tacos! I want tacos! I want tacos!” Then I say “I want ta” and I stopped and jumped on the couch and passed out.
The silver lining of the story is that they left my tacos untouched and that I ate them the next day. Potential for food poisoning? Lots. Flavor? Delicious!
