Kidnapped (Part 1 of…1?)

Posted: July 15th, 2011 | Author: Red | Filed under: Life | Tags: BBQ, Drinking, Friends | 1 Comment »

Note: It’s a long post so I figured I’d split it into two parts.
Note 2: Perhaps splitting it into two posts wasn’t such a great idea. As it turns out, nothing really happened after.

Our first order of business was actually getting some steak for the BBQ. I love 24 hour grocery stores because it makes buying groceries fun. You don’t have to deal with lines, too many people, or those assholes who block the aisles with their carts. And old people, who are essentially talking pylons at the grocery store. We bought six steaks for $40+.

I don’t normally go out after work because I’m usually too tired to participate in anything after my shift. It’s not physically (or mentally) demanding, but after 8 hours of dealing with my customers you tend to lose faith in the world. You can’t couple that feeling with drinking, it’s a recipe for disaster (and apparently great works of art as well).

Sometimes, however, I make exceptions, but it’s usually because I cave in to peer pressure. I love my friends, just not after work. Yesterday, my friend walked up and asked if I wanted to grab “a few drinks” after work with the guys. I really didn’t want to go. I’ve been “out of sorts” (typical, vague bullshit saying that doesn’t mean anything because it could mean everything) so I really just wanted to go home and sleep. He kept asking and I just avoided the question a bunch of times before I finally answered it:

“Naw man, I’m pretty tired, I’m just gonna go home.”
“Red, why are you such a pussy?”
“Alright, fuck you, I’m going.”
“Thatta boy!”

Some brilliant use of psychology by my friend Derek. My main concern was that I didn’t want to go home late. I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately so I thought it would have been a good day to catch up on some rest. In truth I probably would have stayed up late when I got home and missed out on some sleep anyway. But it would have been on my terms. I figured the latest we’d stay would be last call anyway, so I’ll be home around 3ish. It wasn’t that bad.

We finished at different times, so Derek was the first to leave for the bar, then I followed, and we were later joined by Dave and Rob. I’ve never met Dave before but I’ve heard stories about him. He’s the father of two students that I work with, and a huge joker. My friend met him at another district and one of the first things Dave said to him was:

“Hey, I heard you guys have this really useless blonde that works in the North. Her name is Kirstyn or something.”
“…isn’t that your daughter?”
“HAHAHAHA!”

My first encounter with Dave was also quite a funny one. Rob was chiming Dave through the intercom, so Dave called in and said “If you chime me ONE MORE TIME, I’m going to shove that bell up your ass!” He didn’t realize it was me that picked up the phone, but I cracked up pretty hard anyway and said “Hold on Dave, let me get Rob on the line.” I heard some pretty loud laughing on the other end of the line as I was passing it over.

When I got to the bar, Derek was with his friend Ian and I was introduced to him. Pretty fuckin’ cool guy. While we were waiting for the others to show up we each grabbed a pint and got to talking about random shit. I realized that I was in way over my head drinking with these guys. They were seasoned veterans of the party scene, and it didn’t seem likely that we’d stop at last call. Rob and Dave arrived and the drinking picked up pretty quick when these guys sat down. We drank so much, and so fast, that I started to get the hiccups. Everyone else was fine but I was getting fucked up. Who the hell was I drinking with? It was like I got kidnapped by party animals and made to keep up with them. They soon dubbed me “hiccups” which was pretty original when I heard it, but doesn’t have the same ring to it now that I’m sober. Everyone started to give me tips for getting rid of them including holding my breath as long as I can, then taking three sips of a drink without hiccuping. They must be sips, and I must drink three of them. Dave’s suggestion was much simpler. He waved me over so he could teach me his solution for hiccups then punched me in the chest. Neither worked but we all had a good laugh watching me try.

Last call came and we tried ordering three more pitchers of beer. We were only allowed two. As I suspected we weren’t even close to being done after last call. Dave invited us all over to his house, and before I could decline and say that I wanted to go home:

“Red, you’re not gonna pussy out now, are you?”
“Whaaat are you talking ’bout? I’m in son!”
“Alright, we’re going to grab some steaks from Metro and have a BBQ man!”

It was 3am, and we were about to head back to Scarborough for a bbq. Yay?

Our first order of business was actually getting some steak for the BBQ. I love 24 hour grocery stores because it makes buying groceries fun. You don’t have to deal with lines, too many people, or those assholes who block the aisles with their carts. And old people, who are essentially talking pylons at the grocery store. We bought six steaks for $40+ and headed over. This is pretty much when the night winds down, and we start to chill. Dave’s got a pool in his backyard and a wicked awesome patio set, and some torches! I felt like picking one up and re-enacting some scenes from LOST with one. Not sure which one as I have spent the better half of the last 2 years erasing it from my brain.

Ian tries to teach me a drinking card game. It was pretty complex, but I think I got it in the end. I was probably too drunk to play it properly though, as he kept saying “Why would you do that?! You could have won.” I only replied with more hiccups. Dave did all the cooking and even went inside the house to prep some rice and vegetables for us to accompany our steaks. It was fuckin’ delicious.

I brought over some Monte Cristo cigars from Cuba and was telling everyone all night that we were going to smoke them. I don’t think anybody believed I was going to share it (costing a shitload in Canada and all), but I just wanted to smoke it with someone. There’s apparently a special way to smoke cigars where you just taste it in your mouth, without inhaling it. I tried it out but I don’t think i was doing it right so I started inhaling the cigar instead. Each breath I took felt like a sharp hit to my lungs. It was pretty fuckin’ good. Derek was dipping his feet in the pool while smoking and ended up passing out shortly after. Ian had to go home because he had work at 9am (I think it was 5am at this time), and we all decided to leave around this time too. Only, Derek was passed out and we thought it would be an awesome time to take photos of him instead.

And that was the end of my night. I got home at 6:30 and woke up at 11 half dead with my mouth tasting like an ashtray, and a slight hangover. A hell of a way to start my Thursday morning.

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