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Tequila or just wound you.. That is the question.

Posted by todd Fri, 12 Aug 2005 17:40:00 GMT

Last night I fell through a wormhole or something, and wound up being the designated driver.

Actually, let me rephrase that. Last night I was the designated drunk driver (DDD).

It would have been difficult to convince, say, a police officer of the fact. Nevertheless I was the only person capable of driving anywhere. The night had gone tequila, and I was only drinking beer.

In a mark of wisdom, or at least old age, I saw what was coming so I bowed out of the "one round of shots before we go". "One and out" is a game everyone has played... You know the one where you are having one more drink and then going home like a good citizen, only to find yourself sleeping in a ditch several hours later? Good times... Good times.

One and out of course turned into two. Then we attempted to leave, and I drove the now inebriated co-worker to his house, while Gun girl rolled around in the back of my jeep giggling, you know... two shots of tequila style.

At this point it could have been ok. A woman with two shots in her is a good time waiting to happen, but the gods were not looking out for my interests and we wound up in his backyard with them "sampling" fancy tequila. Sampling needs more description.

An interesting thing happens when you drink with people who are connoisseurs of a certain alcohol... They tend to put the drink in a very small glass (which is secretly a shot glass, but much fancier), and then "sample" several different kinds. Of course, what this really means is that my girlfriend and co-worker each consumed about 5 shots of tequila in short order. Fancy or not, that's trouble.

The girl managed to maintain somewhat, opting to play in the sprinklers in her dress rather than taking it off, not that co-worker would have minded. Eventually a neighbor came out and told us to be quiet, which was my only chance to exit before the sun came up, so we left.

Now, unlike with 2 shots, a woman with more than 5 shots in her isn't really good for much. She's a happy drunk though so no biggie, we'll just go home and go to bed. Right?

2 miles after I get onto the highway (the 5, north).. The girl points out that I'm going south. I'm new in town, and have the navigational abilities of a football, so when she stood by her story amid questions, I decided I must have screwed up, and turned around.

In hindsight, taking directions from a plastered woman was a bad idea, even if she had lived in San Diego her entire life. So in about 2 seconds I realized I had been going the right way in the first place, and eventually made it to her house.

Drunk girl doesn't remember the ride home, or most likely the many fun things she suggested we do when we got home. I'll bet she remembers barfing in her bathroom though.

Wouldn't it be great if they packaged alcohol by how sick you want to be afterwards?

"I'd like a bottle of scotch please, mildly retarded size".