10-2-03 - Thoughts
10-1-03 - Some Movie Reviews
9-24-03 - Glenn's Thoughts
9-22-03 - Austin City Limits
9-17-03 - Jeremy's Guest Column
9-16-03 - Hicktoria, Part 2
9-15-03 - Tuesday Night Television
8-28-03 - Hari's Guest Column
8-19-03 - NBA Western Conference Preview
8-18-03 - NBA Eastern Conference Preview
Archives
You know how some stories aren't necessarily funny at the time, but are hilarious six months later? In February, Jeff and I went to visit Blake in Washington, DC. Although I was excited about seeing Blake, the open secret of the trip was that I was also hoping to get some play from my ex. I was in a major dry spell at that point, so it was understandable why ex-sex was a priority. So Thursday night, Jeff, Blake, Blake's roommate (little Jeff), and I agreed to meet up with Kiley and a bunch of her friends at a tapas bar in Adams Morgan.. After a couple of bars, the girls went home because they all had to work the next morning. Without that limitations, we decided to revel in our drunkeness a little longer. What do four drunk guys do when they are already a few sheets to the wind? Head to the friendly neighborhood strip club, of course. "It is where the senators go," we were assured. It was snowing outside, so how could I say no?
Within minutes of getting inside, Jeff is stuffing singles into garter belts, little Jeff is moaning about being short and unattractive to girls, Blake is doing his best to be gawk respectfully, and I am entranced by our cocktail waitress's med school dreams. This goes on for some time (I have no idea how long, the night was beyond hazy by this point) and we each manage to finish two beers and a mixed drink. Our waitress brings us our bill, and it turns out that our 12 drinks add up to $127.00. Blake, Jeff, and I feel foolish for ordering drinks at a strip club, but little Jeff is indignant. He threatens not to pay before deciding he has a better solution...he will try to score some cocaine to make the problem go away. Jeff and I think he is joking, so we play along,
1) "Are You Gonna Be My Girl" - Jet
2) "Oliver's Army" - Elvis Costello
3) "12:51 AM"- The Strokes
4) "Brown Sugar" - Ryan Adams & Beth Orton
5) "Big Booty Woman'" - Skunkweed
6) "Girl Inform Me" - The Shins
7) "Llama School" - Sifl and Olly
8) "Wellington's Wednesdays" - The Weakerthans
9) "2nd Ave.,11 AM" - Ted Leo & the Pharmacists
10) "Back in the Mud"- Bubba Sparxxx
Out in the snow, Jeff, Blake, and little Jeff stumbled about fifteen feet in front of me looking for a cab. In stroke of inebriated magic, I managed to hail a cab. I jumped in, the cabbie drove off, and my friends were left behind. I found the hilarious, and I was rolling around in the back of the cab, laughing spastically. I'm not sure how long we drove around before I realized that I had not given the driver an address to take me to. I was sober enough to realize this was a problem, since I had no idea where Blake lived. Instead of calling him to get his address, I did what any drunk guy leaving a strip club would do...I gave him Kiley's address.
When I got to Kiley's, I couldn't figure out why she wasn't overjoyed to see me. Wouldn't you be happy to see the guy who broke up with you eight months earlier on your doorstep, drunk, reaking of cigarettes and alcohol, and randy from his ill-fated jaunt to the strip club? You know, when you had to wake up for work in four hours? I managed to stumble through her front door and as far as her bedroom, before she redirected me to the bathroom. There was no way I was getting near her unless I showered first. I imagine she helped undress me, since there was no way I could do this myself. I remember falling...loudly...a few times in the showere, before I deemed myself clean enough to crawl into bed with her. I made a few clumsy advances towards her, which were shot down by terrifyingly cold glares. With that, I decided to go to sleep and try again in the morning. That is the last I remember
I woke up the next morning to find Kiley very, very angry at me. I realized I was an idiot, but I wasn't sure what I did to deserve this vehemance. From what I could make out in the fogginess of my hangover, she kept yelling at me about ruining her sheets. For the life of me, I didn't know what she was talking about. At that point, I looked down and noticed that I wasn't wearing the clothing that I was when I got out of the shower and that there were no sheets on the bed. I had drunkenly wet myself, the bed, and her. This was very embarassing, yes, but sadly I had done this before in the course of our three-year relationship and she had quickly forgiven me. I immediately apologized, told her the stains and smell would probably come out, but she told me that wasn't what she was talking about. I had shown up univited in the middle of the night, smelling like Robert Downey Jr. after a four day bender, and had urinated on my ex and her expensive sheets...and this wasn't what she was angry about. This was about the point that I knew I was in trouble.
She tells me that I threw up on her, her pillow, and her sheets. I immediately deny this adamantly. I may have spit something small up, but I don't vomit. Now, I am the guy who passes out on Bourbon Street and in taquerias, but a little known fact about me is that I never throw up. I was very proud of this fact. Kiley gives me a look that makes me feel like a witness, about to be trapped by a junior Miss Perry Mason. Without a word, she leads me to the laundry room where she shows me the stains on the sheets. Out of habit, I start to deny it, before realizing how futile it was. All I could do was look at her sheepishly and apologize profusely. I'm still not sure that I have fully worked myself out of that doghouse.
The funny part about it all, is I wasn't even the member of our strip club group who had the most embarrassing bodily function story to come out of that night! Blake lived in a slightly broken down two story house (with a basement) in Georgetown with little Jeff and two other roommates. Blake lived in the basement with his own bathroom and the other three lived on the top floor and shared a bathroom. The week that Jeff and I were to visit, Blake and his roommates discovered that there was a leak coming through from the top floor to the main floor. To their dismay, they discovered that the liquid leaking through was yellow. They called their landlady, but she couldn't get anyone to come out until the following week. With that, a bucket in the living room became a necessity.
After a long night of tapas and alcohol that Thursday, little Jeff's body was not treating him too well. He awoke in the middle of the night with an intense need to make it to a restroom. He ran to the bathroom near his room, but quickly realized that it was not an option. He ran downstairs and made the decision that he wasn't going to make it to the basement restroom. The bucket looked very inviting at that point. So little Jeff completed a memorable night by taking a crap in a bucket in the middles of the living room. He didn't clean it up, but he did manage to transport his mess into the backyard. To think, we still had two more nights in DC to go...