So now we continue onto volume 5 of my drunken mistakes. Now it is time to talk about my 21st birthday.
The thing that sucked about my birthday is that it always fell on spring break. This is good when I actually went away on spring break but the other three years of school when I couldn’t afford it; well lets just say it was uneventful. I went home back to Western, NY for my 21st birthday to hang out with my girlfriend and celebrate my birthday. Due to the fact not everyone 21 we were left with few options of what we could do to celebrate my birthday. The idea of going to Canada was thrown about where the strippers are hotter, the drinking age is lower, and the beer is a lot better.
My friend Kris went with us as the designated driver, it was still snowy out in Western, NY in March and we were about to be hit with another snow storm. On the way up to Canada we decided to drink in the car. There is a concoction of alcohol my uncles friend Val used to make for parties called mojo, which gets you bombed after a couple of glasses due to the high alcohol content. We made some mojo and drank entire way up in the car so we would have a nice base laid down by the time we made it to the first strip club. We got to the first club and kept drinking, beer, shots, and table dances were a good way to spend the early portion of the night. We became bored with the talent there and decided to move on to another club that we knew about. This club actually had two parts there was a female and a male strip club. Going here meant you had a high chance of meeting horny ladies on the way out or ladies coming over to the female side to cure their curiosity. It was a solid game plan for us for sure.
The second bar was a good time, the talent was better we could play pool if we werent impressed with what was going on or if we were waiting for some girls. I was pretty drunk by the time we reached the second strip club yet people decided to continue to by me shots of goldschlager. At this bar they had hooter shooters where the waitress would but a test tube of the shot in between their breasts for you to drink them. So after four hooter shooters I had to put an end to the shots, I knew I was done. My friend Don suggested one more shot and I begged them not to give me goldschlager. Of course when the waitress came over and I got ready to do my shot I could smell the wretched cinnamon smell.
After doing that shot I knew I had to refund the alcohol. Due to the fact that the bathroom was clear across the club I knew I needed to think of a plan B. If I puked in the club we were going to get kicked out and that would damper the mood. So I slyly climbed under the pool table and puked all over the place. I came back up from refunding and told the guys that we were done playing pool. Quickly by using their sense of smell they figured it was a good time to get some table dances. I have to say this was a veteran drinking move and it was only my 21st birthday.
Another hour or so went by and I was back to drinking in full force. Mark and Don had disappeared into the back room to get lap dances and my friend Jason was blasted and sitting at a table with Kris. In my drunken wisdom I decided to wander outside the bar and see if there were any women for me to pick up on. When I got outside there were four girls that were going to go to a dance club. I started chatting with them and told them it was my birthday. They invited me to go to the club with them, I ran back inside and grabbed a half passed out Jason and told Kris I was going to go to a dance club and to pick us up there.
Now here are some little known facts about me. I dont dance, I suck at it, and on principle I refuse to go to clubs. I was so blasted at this point I felt like it was a great idea to go, it tells you something about my condition. At this point the details become a little fuzzy. I remember getting to the bar and Jason being so drunk that he couldnt stand. I put Jason on a bar stool and told him I would be back. He grabbed my arm and looked me dead in the eye and said, “Kevin I dont know where I am, dont forget me.” I ordered him a beer and headed to the floor telling him I would be back. I dont know how long I danced for or really what went on. I know I made out with two of the girls that we were in the cab with on the dance floor. What they look like I couldnt even tell you all I know is I dance like a Elaine on Seinfeld and I could barely speak so if they were all over me at that point in the night it is a testament to my good looks or their poor looks, I will let you decide.
At some point Mark came up to me and said that they just found the club and we had to get going because there was some trouble. I came up to the front of the club with him to see Don and Jason squared off against the bouncers and two wannabe gang bangers. Don had a bottle in his hand and Jason I really have no explanation for what he was doing. He was kind of leaning against the bar stool and trying to look hardcore. He looked more like a wet noodle sliding down the side of a pan. Mark was trying to pull Don and Jason out of the bar and I remember the gangsta guys calling someone a honkey, which was the first time I actually heard someone called that in an argument in real life before. We exited the bar with a little more trash talk being exchanged.
Finally we head down the stairs to my car where Kris was waiting. We head back towards the border trying to figure out what the hell was going on up front, which till this day I have no idea what happened. You would think it ended there. But on the way home in the middle of a snow storm Kris cut a guy off on the freeway who began to follow us, all the way back to Kriss house. The guy drove by us as we all stumbled into the house. Nobody really knew he was following us except for Kris but he didnt bother to tell our drunken passed out asses because we were worthless at this point.
The next morning came and I went out to my car to see my front right quarter panel kicked in with footprints on it. So apparently the guy drove by and came back to kick in the front part of my car. Happy birthday to me!
Moral of the story: Never leave a man behind because you wont figure out what the hell happened. And never drink goldschlager if you like Big Red because you will never be able to chew it again if you get sick off of it.