Cinco de Mayo

We got a last minute invite to a small gathering of friends for Cinco de Mayo, so we dumped the kids off at the sitter and took advantage of precious alone time with other adults. We called and asked what we should bring, as we were stopping at the liquor store anyway...the hosts requested hamburgers and nothing else. We were skeptical, but we followed directions and didn't buy additional beer [this is called "foreshadowing," as you know this decision will bite us on the ass later in the story, so remember it].

We hung out for a few hours, drank fairly slowly, hung out around a fire...very low key, until my brother in law had the bright idea to play a drinking game. Bear in mind, everyone in attendance is either pushing 30 or already there...a drinking game of any kind was bound to end badly, but the Scene It? DVD wasn't working and we were out of options for entertainment. "The Name Game" was chosen, and we all sat down, each of us with 2 drinks immediately available so we wouldn't have to get up.

For those who are not familiar, "The Name Game" goes like this: the first person picks the name of a famous person (let's just say Brad Pitt), and goes to the next person in the circle, who then has to come up with a name that begins with P (Pauly Shore), and the next person comes up with an S name...now, if that S name is a double S (Sharon Stone), it goes back to the person who said Pauly Shore, who has to come up with another S name. If THAT person comes up with another double S name (Sally Struthers), it goes back AGAIN. 2 people can battle with double letters for quite a while, and this is generally how you get the drunkest because you have to drink while you think. As you get drunker, it's harder to think of anything, and people just start trying to make shit up. The rule is that at least 2 other people have to know the person you're talking about or it doesn't count. Characters in movies and such can also be used. Also, you can't use a name more than once, but this rule gets pretty loose as the game wears on...who the fuck is going to remember that you used Sally Field 2 hours ago?

Anyway, we were all double fisting and it was game on. Things went smoothly for a while...me, being a geek, started picking historical figures and such, much to the chagrine of my drunken counterparts.


K: "Friedrich Nietzsche."

"WHO???"

K: "Nietzsche. He was a philosopher."

"Fucking hell, K...you coulda picked Fred Flintstone or something."


I kept getting F's, and was going to be damned before I would pick Fran Drescher or some other stupid shit.


K: "Francis Cabot Lowell."

"WHAT?"

K: "He was a great industrial spy, his work was pretty much the catalyst for the Industrial Revolution in America."

[silence]


Clearly, I am not much fun to have in a drinking game while I'm still sober.


Things got interesting when I started getting Q's and Z's...the more I was thinking, the more I was drinking, and things really started to get hairy. After that, even the simplest of letters was a huge, insurmountable challenge.


"Ok, it's a C to you, K."

K: "Ummmm..." [gulp...gulp...gulp]

"Keep drinking!"

K: "Yeah, yeah..." [gulp...gulp...] "AH HA! Kristy MacNichol!"

"Nope! That's a K, not a C."

K: "MOTHERFUCKER!" [gulp...gulp...] "Ok, Kris Kristofferson."

[laughter] "No important figures in history coming to mind?"

K: "Get fucked." [gulp...gulp...gulp...]


The game got much easier when I remembered an untapped resource...PORN STARS! Much to the amazement of the men, I started spitting out names like Chasey Lain, Jenna Jameson (DOUBLE J, BITCHES!!!), Janine (No last name! EVERYONE HAS TO DRINK!)...no Vivid stone went unturned, and I drank at least 6 people right onto the floor of the spare bedroom.

Sadly, the "you don't need to pick up booze" short-sightedness led to a beer drought that was quite acute by 1am. Our host started searching his garage for the cheap stuff he keeps on reserve when one of the guys came out holding a tray full of strawberry shortcake desserts. Just about everyone grabbed one, took a bite...

"WHAT THE FUCK?"
[spit...cough...cough]
"What the hell did you put on this, Mark?"
[cough...cough...gag]


Mark: "We were out of strawberry sauce, so I soaked them in tequila."

[collective stare of shock] "WHY would you do that?"

Mark: "It's Cinco de Mayo. Just fuckin' eat 'em."


Everyone was so desperate for booze at that point that everyone actually finished their Cuervo Shortcakes with whipped cream on top. Nasty, nasty shit. That was our cue, it's clearly time to go home when you're at a point of sucking tequila out of bakery products.

We got home at about 3am, and collapsed into bed. About 30 seconds later, the alarm was going off, as it was 8am and I had scheduled a pedicure earlier in the week...before I knew I'd be Tina Turner/Tiny Tim/Tim the Toolman Taylor'ing my way into a booze-induced coma. My girlfriend and I met up and plopped our asses into massaging chairs while small Asian women filed away at our toes. Not a bad way to spend a morning of being hung over. At the very least, my flowery toes and freshly waxed brows are taking attention away from the bags under my eyes and generally foul demeanor...




Yeah yeah...I have ugly feet, and even 10 little Asian women cannot change that fact. Tell me something I don't know. And yeah, I already chipped one, fuck you very much for noticing.