Last weekend, we had one of those nights that I haven't had in a long time. You know, like the ones from your 20s, when you can't quite remember what happened? Well, ok, those were my 20s anyway, maybe into my early 30s. We had an engagment party to go to in the easy bay, and it was a friend's birthday also, and he wanted to do dinner/drinks in the city. So we decided to get a hotel room in SF. G started drinking early in the afternoon and was already buzzed when we headed to the city. We checked into the hotel, and headed over for dinner, a tapas place with great sangria. After dinner, we hit a salsa club. As the night progressed, I realized that everyone around me was getting plastered. One of the girls in our party actually worked at the club, and was able to hook up with tequila shots, and pretty much all the nasty drinks that I've sworn (multiple times) that I'd never touch again. Slowly the crowd started to dissipate, and we outlasted even the birthday boy. Finally, though, I was getting ready to go, and managed to drag everyone out. At this point, there were a few place sticking around that we didn't know, but we went out to grab a cab with our friends L and B.
Of course, though, we were in the boonies, it turned out and there were no cabs to be had. So after a couple of unsuccessful attempts, I finally managed to get on hold with a cab company and was waiting when my friend L decided that maybe we could just take the bus that was hanging out outside the club. Before I could stop everyone, the three of them were all boarding this random bus, and L was asking them to take us to the Marriott downtown. But she got a little distracted cuz it turned to be an Indian party bus, and they were playing really loud bhangra. So she started showing off her dance skills and pointed out that she had an Indian friend. I'm not sure how it all happened, but I was dragged in, too, to be shown off, which is always fun. Turns out they weren't really discriminatory. They were just as happy to ply everyone with drinks with or without a token Indian girl in tow. Before I knew it, L was dancing at the back of the bus. B was glancing at his wife in exasperation. G was getting straight scotch from some of the guys. It turns out they're part of this Punjabi Association in the city and ocassionally go out on the town and check the clubs.
So at this point, G was WAY FAR GONE. And the thing is, I know how he is. He's the best drunk in the world, but the hangovers are ridiculous. Like he's out all day ridiculous, whining and complaining about his stomach and his head and everybody suffers. I still remember a lovely weekend when he came to see me in San Diego, got drunk on the first night, and spent the rest of the weekend in bed. He won all kinds of bonus points that visit, as you can imagine. So I definitely did NOT want him drinking anymore. I was still on hold with the cab company and trying to grab scotch drinks from him left and right. But some how, I'd take one away and another would appear in his hand without me ever knowing where they came from. All the while insisting that he wasn't really drunk. No, not really. L was explaining to anyone that would listen that she had great Indian friends (but would start describing this girl who I'm pretty sure is Persian). G for some reason started talking to the guys (you know, cuz they were all bonding over Scotch) about how they should check out this strip club next. A man who was even more drunk and I think the culprit-enabler handing my husband plastic cup after plastic cup of scotch, explained that actually, they were here with their wives. Who, by the way, I'm sure were VERY THRILLED by my friend L showing off her dancing skills.
Unphased, G pushed forward. As near as I can figure, the whole incident reminded him a bit of this bachelor party he went to a few years ago where they hired some girls from Craig's List, and rented a party bus. I guess the girls did their show on the bus. This was the first I'd ever heard of the incident. Later that night, G would tell me all about it in detail with our friend B (who hadn't even been at the bachelor party) trying to change the subject, cuz you know, there's that whole guy code about bachelor parties. Anyway, I'm thinking now that the whole bachelor party thing was already in his head, cuz that's the only way I can explain what I overheard next - him explaining how the guys ccould actually even hire girls off Craig's List. OMG. Yup, I'm pretty sure that's what he said. My husband, ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much. I set aside my phone long enough to apologize, the man said that no apologies were necessary. He knew all about Craig's List. All rightie, then. Never mind. But he stuttered again that they were here with their wives, which I think sunk in with G at that point, cuz suddenly I felt his arms wrap around my neck and his voice saying that yah, he got that, he was here with his wife too.
Honestly, I don't know how I did it. Finally the cab came, and I was able to drag everyone off with me. B seemed to be sober too and making sure his wife got in the cab. I took one more scotch out of G's hands and dragged him in too. When we got back to the hotel, the consensus seemed to be that the best thing to do would be keep drinking even MORE, and we headed off to the bar. Which thank god wasn't serving anymore. L really wanted to go to the bar across the street, but I was pretty exhuasted by that point, and called it a night. And fortunately, they did too. Cuz the next morning, B, who I thought had been mostly sober was throwing up and almost had to be taken to the hospital to be my rehydrated. And G - as predicted - spend the day moaning and groaning. I spent the whole day waiting for him to feel up to heading up, and no shocker, he never felt like he was up for it. Instead, I just had to sit around the hotel room waiting around, watching crappy TV and being totally unsympathetic. I'd wanted to hang out in the city all day, and I guess I got my wish, just hadn't figured it'd be in a hotel room.
AND here's what was probably the most hilarious part about the whole evening. Cuz if you remember these types of evenings from your partying days, you remember how it goes, right? You'd be shutting down the bars, crawling into bed at 3 in the morning, maybe drinking some water or taking a Tylenol if you have your wits about you, and fall asleep partially in your bar hopping clothes. Right? Right? Well, I guess we had a little version of that going too, except that guess what time it was when I crawled into bed that night (after helping G off the floor cuz he fell while trying to get on the bed)? A whopping 12:30 AM. Seriously.
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