Author Topic: Drinking stories  (Read 367 times)

Offline Mr.Obvious

Drinking stories
« on: February 14, 2018, 02:39:03 AM »
Currently I'm participating in something called 'tournee minerale'. Basically throughout The month of februari, I don't drink a drop of alcohol. I've deliberatly gone months without booze before. It's not hard and i don't think i generally drink too much, but it'd good to remind yourself once in a while: Hey, i don't 'need' that glass of wine with my spaghetti.

So this month has me reflecting on my drinking history and The stories that came With them. Some awesome, Some funny and most all of them shamefull and unresponsible.
Got me interested in other peoples stories of what Happened that one time when you were completely hammered and you and your friends...

I'm heading into work now, but I'll be back later to post an embarrassing one myself. Anyone willing to share, please do!
"If we have to go down, we go down together!"
- Your mum, requesting 69 last night.

Offline Mr.Obvious

Re: Drinking stories
« Reply #1 on: February 14, 2018, 06:51:07 AM »
When I was just eightteen I was in my final year of the scouts. In the final year three scoutsgroups in the neighborhood come together, ours made of boys, one mixed with boys and girls and one with girls. So though we'd gotten to know one another over the course of at least 10 months, many of us were still not all that close to the others. Some of us knew one-another for 12 years or so.
I had no illusions, I wasn't the most attractive guy in the group. Nor the funniest. Nor the most athletic or smartest, ... There was no way any of the girls were going to be into me. But for the first time in a long time, I found I didn't care. At the age of 17 I'd finally decided my overweight and anti-social behavior was my own problem; not others. I'd started watching my food, dressing better, being more sociable and started working out. I was not yet where I wanted to get, but I was on my way and I was focussing on making myself better and learning to love myself, rather than frustratedly seeking confirmation of others. I didn't feel like I needed a girlfriend or female affection. I wanted it, but I didn't need it.

During our end-of-the-year trip, during july, we flew to Spain and continued to hike all the way into Portugal over the course of two weeks, where we'd fly back. It was great. Serveca everyday. No rain and lots of sun. And for the first time in ever, I wasn't only able to keep up with everyone on the long-hike-treks, I even carried gear for others. I was feeling good about myself. I was having a great time and felt things couldn't get better.
On one of the last nights, we had a party. We went to a local pub/dancing in some small town and had the place to ourselves. All thirty of us. Young. In the prime of our lives and feeling indestructible. I felt no pressure. I wasn't trying to impress, just going with the flow.

And then, after a few beers, someone bought everyone a round of blue corocao. And then there was another. And another. And another.
The music became harder to listen to. My moves, I think, slower. But we all kept on dancing. And before I knew it, I was dancing close to this girl. I thought she was cute. Especially in my intoxicated state. But I didn't try to bother her or anything. We were all just having a good time.

Before I know it, she grabs me by the arm and leads me to the hall leading to the bathrooms. Away from the music, somewhat, she rubs her head and her eyes and asks me.
"Hey...?"

"Yeah?" I replied.

"Do you like me?"

I didn't know what was going on. But I wasn't going to fuck this up.

"Yeah." I answered. "I like you."

"Alright..." She mumbled, striking her fingers through her brown hair. "Wait here."

She walked off into the girls bathroom. And I felt my heart pounding. My feet felt weak. The world was spinning. A vague voice in the back of my head asked me if what I was doing was wise. But the blue corocao beat it into submission.
I waited there, almost threw up once, for her to return.
I waited minutes. Then five more. Five more. And more.

At that point, I figured something had gone wrong.

I followed her into the bathroom and couldn't see her anywhere. I called out to her. What I got in return wasn't a real reply. It was incoherent mumbling coming from one of the stalls.
I asked her if everything was fine. And I heard a sleepy 'help'.

I returned to the dance-room and got some of the girls. Let me tell you, explaining the situation to them and getting them to come along was a hassle in and of itself.
They had to climb in and help her. She was too drunk to get out herself; locked herself in; half-asleep with her pants around her ankles.

We got her home safe and sound. But the next morning, she'd shat her sleeping bag.

I can honestly say I've never again hit on a drunk chick or tried to hit on someone while I was drunk.
"If we have to go down, we go down together!"
- Your mum, requesting 69 last night.

Offline aitm

Re: Drinking stories
« Reply #2 on: February 14, 2018, 02:17:06 PM »
Most of my stories would invite a storm of women in a bunch of #meto signs.
However once I was so inebriated I couldn't get up and pee so I peed inside of her nuff said
A humans desire to live is exceeded only by their willingness to die for another. Even god cannot equal this magnificent sacrifice. No god has the right to judge them.-first tenant of the Panotheust

Re: Drinking stories
« Reply #3 on: February 14, 2018, 02:19:32 PM »
I don’t drink alcohol but your story reminded me of the first time I tried beer. Picture it… 1984… a naïve, closeted gay, D&D nerd attending a redneck high school in the mountains of North Carolina. It was my senior year and a classmate from ROTC, whose was nickname was Sharky, asked me to drive her home. She invited me inside the single-wide trailer of her thirtysomething-year-old boyfriend, whose name escapes me. She gave me a beer, put on some Southern rock and went to change out of her ROTC uniform, leaving me with her boyfriend, who was dressed in nothing but tighty-whiteys and a large metal amulet. I sipped my first beer and it tasted horrible. Boyfriend was clearly stoned, his glazed eyes looking at me, or at least in my direction. I tried engaging in conversation by asking about his bold fashion accessory. He said it was to protect him from evil spirits and slurred a tale of how it sat in moonlight for a specific number of nights, then water, then blood. “Well, um, I hope it works” was all I could think to say.

I took another sip of beer, which wasn't tasting any better. Sharky came dancing out the bedroom wearing a bra and shorts... and carrying handcuffs in one hand and a gun handle with a dildo for a barrel in the other. She noticed my shocked expression and giggled, “don’t worry these are for me, not you!” Even if I hadn’t been completely uninterested in her sexually, a drug-fueled, bondage, witchcraft three-way would have been a bit much for my first sexual experience. I babbled some excuse and got out of there as quickly as possible. I didn’t even drink half the can of beer.
“You are the sky. Everything else – it’s just the weather.”

― Pema Chödrön

Offline Cavebear

Re: Drinking stories
« Reply #4 on: February 15, 2018, 02:24:37 AM »
I suspect all of us have had truly embarassing moments at one time or other as we try to weave our way though life.  The important thing is get past it while not forgetting the mistakes and the causes of those mistakes. 

And getting older tends to lead to fewer mistakes.  For most...
Atheist born, atheist bred.  And when I die, atheist dead!

Offline Baruch

Re: Drinking stories
« Reply #5 on: February 18, 2018, 09:21:49 PM »
I have only been plastered once, when a tourist in Athens in 1983.  I will never do that again.  The only alcohol poisoning ... fall out of bed ... crawl to the toilet to vomit in it ... had my one and only hangover ... had to ride a boat from Piraeus to Hydra the next morning.  Beware of drinking with Canadians!  I kept my head on the table (on ship) for the first half of the trip.  I was OK after that.
שלום

Offline Mr.Obvious

Re: Drinking stories
« Reply #6 on: February 20, 2018, 05:29:33 PM »
On a lighter note,

I met my girlfriend when I was drunk at a Saint Patrick's day party. I had a clover painted on my face and was wearing all green, drinking green beer.
I can't remember the last time just beer got me truly drunk, but it did get me there that night.

A friend of mine, Alex, said his sister and some of her friends from college were coming to the party as well. My girlfriend was one of those friends.
After they'd arrived, my friend's sister asked me to keep one of her two friends occupied as she would try to set up her other friend with her brother.
I was like, 'sure, whatever'. So I started talking her up, but not trying to seduce her. There was no pressure, I figured I was just being a wingman. Besides, I'd been told the girl had a boyfriend.

I was loose and silly and very out of my shell that night. And by the end of the evening, I learned I'd been occupying the wrong friend, all night.

She saw something in me though.
And I'm glad she did.

So thank you booze, and Saint Patrick.
"If we have to go down, we go down together!"
- Your mum, requesting 69 last night.

Offline Cavebear

Re: Drinking stories
« Reply #7 on: February 25, 2018, 01:02:24 AM »
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On a lighter note,

I met my girlfriend when I was drunk at a Saint Patrick's day party. I had a clover painted on my face and was wearing all green, drinking green beer.
I can't remember the last time just beer got me truly drunk, but it did get me there that night.

A friend of mine, Alex, said his sister and some of her friends from college were coming to the party as well. My girlfriend was one of those friends.
After they'd arrived, my friend's sister asked me to keep one of her two friends occupied as she would try to set up her other friend with her brother.
I was like, 'sure, whatever'. So I started talking her up, but not trying to seduce her. There was no pressure, I figured I was just being a wingman. Besides, I'd been told the girl had a boyfriend.

I was loose and silly and very out of my shell that night. And by the end of the evening, I learned I'd been occupying the wrong friend, all night.

She saw something in me though.
And I'm glad she did.

So thank you booze, and Saint Patrick.

Accidents can sometimes lead to great results.  Congrats to both of you.
Atheist born, atheist bred.  And when I die, atheist dead!

 

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