Home > NYC, Only In New York > Famous Last Words: This One Time, At Band Camp, I Was Drinking…

Famous Last Words: This One Time, At Band Camp, I Was Drinking…

This one time, at band camp, I was drinking extra tall Long Island Iced Teas, alternating them with shots of Cuervo [*moment of silence*] Then I get on my drunk dial-drunk test game: “ohj yoiu linbe arounbg tjhge coiirtner? Ikll nbe thwere inm as miknute” … I leave my friends at the bar, I’m well passed tipping, but feeling ok, then I smoke a spliff on the way. [This is where I went wrong, take notes…] So I go to this chick’s house, she’s been drinking too, I’m like, FUCKYEAH, I just arrived at the corner of Buzzington & Easy St. We on the bed, AS SOON as we lean down to lay down, I’m like NOOOO! My brain wanted to throw up. Smoking, after a night of drinking feels like deep sea diving with no snorkel… So I go to the bathroom to put some water on my face, sober up, get focused, DirkDiggler-look-in-the-mirror style. None of this is working, I still see three of me in the mirror, so I turn off the light and go under the tub water and let the cold water run down my back. Now, I really can’t be sure of how long I was there for because I’m pretty sure I lost consciousness once, twice or thrice… All I know is that every time I came back to, I had one less article of clothing on. I thought, maybe, I’m good enough to get up now. NO. As soon as I take my head from the faucet, I feel like I just got off that dumbass amusement park ride that just spins and spins, The Starship 2000, or whatever it’s called. So I go back in the water. Then I hear banging on the door, this chick is frantic and slurring her words, something about my dad’s home and he’s pissed, you gotta go. *blank stare* Now, how fast do you really think I’ma go when I can’t even ATTEMPT to get the task that I did come here for done. [»»Cut to me in her room»»I really don’t know how I got there, AT ALL]. This girl’s putting my clothes on for me (I’m totally not helping), she’s talking about my father’s gon’ kill you, you threw up in his house. I know that that’s completely false *looks down* for now. As soon as this chick starts to walk to her door, I get 3 feet and spew vomit, 40% alc. by volume, all over her wall and floor. 3 times. Then I just walk out, and start walking out of the building. I don’t know what ever happened to the clean up, I guess her dad was kinda mad, it didn’t phase me, I was already at the train station… But here’s the kicker, the girl leaves me a voicemail saying where’d you go, I wanted to give you $$ to get in a cab. I was thinking, if that were me, I’d be calling the curse you out, I don’t even like cleaning my own vomit. I just look back at that day and laugh..
For some reason, I could never call that chick again *shrugs* I guess I was embarrassed.

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  1. August 10, 2010 at 8:48 am

    OH MY JESUS!

    I didn’t think anything could top the Harlem Hospital story, but this takes over first place.

  2. August 10, 2010 at 9:15 am

    LMFAOOOOOO! I aim to please (and aimed towards the wall, btw…LOL)

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