As you may have read here, my Thanksgiving week this year was filled with family, friends and a lot of food. I did, however, elude to the fact that Erin and I went out on Friday and I ended up getting black out.
This isn’t the first time Erin and I have gone out and gone out hard. A few years back we spent a night documenting what I labeled “The 13 Steps to Getting Blackout” in photographs that I have put on Facebook.
I think the combination of how infrequently I go out and get shmammered, and how even more infrequently I have the chance to get crazy with my best friend, sets me up for an incredibly fun – albeit possibly unsafe and questionable – night.
Here is this year’s story:
Erin, Laura and I made plans to have a “best friends” date on the Friday after Thanksgiving. We started our date night Caroling at Cloud Gate. Every Friday between Thanksgiving and Christmas a different choral group comes to The Bean and sings holiday songs. The general public can come, sing along and enjoy the holiday season against the backdrop of the skyline. It’s one of my favorite things in the whole world. So we did that. When it was over, we traveled to dinner at Taverna 750. I was pre-informed that I should order a Blood and Sand.
Erin ordered 4. I ordered 3. Laura ordered 2. Then we (I think) challenged Laura to take my sidecar as a shot…so she and I ended up having 2.5 each of these fabulously strong beverages.
Then we walked back to Erin’s. We sang songs. We laughed. We told stories. I attempted to mount a wooden decorative horse.
Laura left us to head back to the suburbs and then Erin and I decided to get shitty. And I mean shitty in a good way.
I’m sorry, shitty can be good?
Well, you tell me.
We went out to Boystown and enjoyed some club-style dancing at Scarlet. Upon our arrival we did a shot and got a vodka drink. We then traveled to Sidetracks where we took bathroom selfies and drank more vodka drinks before we decided we wanted to go to Wrigleyville.
When we got to Wrigleyville we found that the bars were mostly closed. We were extra confused until we realized it was nearing 2 a.m. We were directed to an after hours bar. On our way, we made friends with a stranger who would resurface later.
Upon entering the after hours bar, we found a table on which to place our pocketbooks and
shoes coats. We then cleared the area around us to make a dance floor. We danced (semi-choreographed) to pretty much every song. We encouraged others to join us. I cannot recall if anyone did. At this point, our stranger friend – Frank – resurfaced and we had some drinks with him and people he seemed to know. After a couple shots and a few beers, this was the scene:
Erin had become “Julie.” We had successfully convinced a stranger that Erin had been knifed down outside of a train stop in June (which is not true.) I had decided I wanted the shirt that someone else was wearing, and traded him for it.
Time seemed to fly by because the next thing I recall, the after hours bar was closing. I also don’t recall much first hand after this. Most of this is hearsay. Of course this meant the end of our night.
Hahahaha. Just kidding. This is when we made questionable decisions.
Apparently, our new stranger-friend, Frank, lived right down the road and had a hot tub! YAY!!!! So naturally we walked to his house, changed into clothes that were not ours, and got in the hot tub. We did not do anything slutty. At all. We listened to music, hung out, talked (I think) and then decided we were done and ready to go home. We changed back into our own clothes, took a cab to Erin’s and went to sleep for a couple hours.
Erin informed me that when we left Frank’s, the other dude – who I had switched shirts with – offered us to sleep at his place. Our reply? “Nope.” Not even a no thank you. Just nope.
I spent the ENTIRE next day in one of two places: bed or attached to the toilet. It was thrilling, to say the least.
I miss the days when my hangovers were just a headache that could be cured with water and Excedrin. Not the current hangovers I get which are full body and last all day long.
*P.S. I did think to text my mom and sister to let them know I wouldn’t be returning. However, I did this at 5:45am. I think I may have missed the boat on being considerate with that one…
When was the last time you pretended you were 22 years old and drank until the sun came up? What’s the most questionable thing you’ve done while drunk with your friends? Or alone, I guess?