Monday, November 30, 2009

Beer in Purse

So although this occurred about 2 weeks ago, it has taken me this long in my crazed life to write about the incident. Ridiculous- I know, however it is still completely noteworthy and definitely worth writing about.

Day drinking is absolutely FANTASTIC, however we all know that there comes a time during the day where there is simply no turning back, and sobriety will not be achieved until 5 p.m. the next day. You can do one of two things: 1. Go home and go to bed (never a real option in my book) or 2. continue the drinking binge until the wee hours of the morning. On this particular Saturday, I chose option 2. I had started drinking with my boyfriend and his friends at 12 p.m. because the Vandals were playing Boise State (if you know the rivalry between these 2, you realize why drinking was necessary). So we meandered to a bar still slightly hung over from the night before. I decided to be a champ and the girlfriend that everyone loves because she's drinking Mac & Jack's before noon, and join in the fun. Needless to say, the Vandals loss took a heavy toll on everyone, and there was no better way to fix it than watching the GU game at a different bar, where the Bulldogs would crush whomever the unlucky contender was. More beer drinking ensued . . . followed by more beer drinking during endless games of shuffleboard, etc.

Following these events, my boyfriend and I had agreed to attend one of his roommate's work events at a swanky little night spot where they were providing drinks for the amazing price of $4 each (which is a steal in Seattle). So I was forced to forgo my usual order and accept Vodka Cranberries instead of beer, which I truly do love if they're made correctly. And inevitably this one was no different than all the others you order at a bar that either A. is serving alcohol for half the price, or B. caters to college students who really aren't capable of differentiating between Vodka and Rum because they're so fucking inebriated. It was a rank drink, but I downed 2 in 15 minutes. Then we got bored, so we decided that bar hopping was really the way to go.

Onward we went! . . . to a typical college hangout that appeared as though too many underage kids were present. At this point, I was in the I'm-drunk-and-will-not-listen-to-you phase. As was displayed by my IMMEDIATE need to sit down. Most all of you are aware that if I want to sit, I will sit. And anywhere I goddamn please . . . whether it be on the sewered streets of Poland in a jean mini-skirt or on the bar floor of an overcrowded Seattle favorite, much as I did that evening. I took my post below the bar on the floor, you know the place where your feet go when you're leaning over the bar to get the bartender's attention to order a drink? Yeah, I sat there, with everyone towering above me. I was only encouraged in my decision because my friend C's girlfriend joined me there as well. (I would later find out that my friend, P, apparently finds it hilarious to piss IN bars, ON the floor . . . much like the one I was sitting on. Evidently he had pissed on that very floor at one point in time and advised me that I should refrain from taking refuge there again. I think that might be the only reason I will NEVER sit there again.)

Anyway, during my little pow-wow with C's girfriend an incident occurred in which I took great offense. I should actually rephrase that . . . DRUNK ELISE took offense to this . . . SOBER ELISE would have said, "what a dumb bitch" and maybe said something to this chick's face, but feathers would have remained in tact. However, upon being pulled up off the ground by N (also known as boyfriend), he informed me casually that some stupid girl had tried to come and talk to him and C while us girls were not present. He was saying it simply because he thought it was funny, little did he know that the following information would have dire consequences for the girl in question. I am told the conversation went like this:

N: Some stupid girl came up and talked C and I's ears off while you girls were gone.
Me: Really? What did she say?
N: Well she kept trying to talk to us and ask what your names were. When we kept ignoring her and not answering she flipped out and called me a douchebag and said that I probably hadn't been laid in over a year
Me: WHAT?!?!?! YOU GOT LAID LIKE AN HOUR AGO!!! Where the fuck is she?!

Yes, I actually sputtered the truth out loud, in the crowded bar in defense of my boyfriend who so clearly did not give a shit. I decided to go on a quest to find this ridiculous girl who probably had never been laid in her LIFE. Once I saw her I found even more justification for what I was about to do. She was wearing a disgusting bright pink floral shirt (the kind we wore when we went to Hawaii when we were 8 years old), a jean skirt (that appeared to be from Wet Seal or something . . . ps: its fucking NOVEMBER so why are you wearing a jean skirt?!), black tights, and black boots. Any of my close friends will tell you that I am extremely judgmental when it comes to clothing. If someone is so clearly not dressed appropriately, I will most like say something to the individual beside me. People actually love me for it, but that's neither here nor there. The fact that this chick was wearing that outfit was just the icing on the cake. Plus, she was fat. So I decided that I would pour the last half of my pint into her purse. You know, to teach her a lesson (seriously Elise? wow). Anyway, you shouldn't be surprised that that's exactly what I did. I walked up to her on the dance floor when she wasn't looking, and expertly poured all my beer into her purse, like I was sharing. And I got away with it too . . .

Obviously, my boyfriend and his friends found this hilarious and still proceed to talk about it to this day. I guess it's a pretty good testament to my feelings for N. But even I agree that I took it a little too far. I promise, I'll try to be better next time ;)

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