houseofwong: And Then She Bit The Dust

Back in the day (which was a Wednesday) when we were younger and dumber, Kari and I (along with lots of other friends) used to spend many a weekend at the bar. Raise your hand if you were surprised by that last sentence. Anyone? About two years ago we went with a co-worker on a Friday night to BW3 after work and had just planned on grabbing dinner and a few beers. A few beers turned into eight beers and it was getting late and our co-worker decided to go home. We were going to just go back to my house which is right across the street (I know, drinking and driving is bad but it's literally just across the street...walking distance if we weren't such lazy-asses) but as soon as we got into the car we decided that we didn't want to go home so we went down the street to Babe's instead. Babe's is one of those neighborhood bars that once you turned 21 you spend the next four to six years going to every single weekend but then realize that the new wave of of younguns is starting to spend every single weekend there too and they are more drunk and annoying than you were at that age, so then you just stop going there. But it's fun to go back every once in a while. So we get to Babe's and we're feeling pretty good and order a round. We sit at the bar and people-watch and finish our beers, order another round, order a shot, drink it, order another one, drink it. Kari puts her head in her hands and says something but I can't understand her because she's talking into her hands so I say, "What?!" and she lifts her head up and her eyes are half shut and she says, "Soweshouldgohomesoonokay?". It was all a big long slurred word. I tell her that my beer is almost gone and I will finish it quickly and we will leave. I stand up to go to the bathroom, I tell her that I will be right back. The bathroom was about twenty feet away and I was gone for about 3 minutes and I come back around the corner and this is what I see:

She's sprawled out on the floor, bar stool tipped over, the contents of her purse scattered halfway across the bar. It must have just happened right before I came around the corner because nobody in the bar had noticed her laying there or had bothered to help her yet. So I pick up the bar stool and her purse first, trying not to make a huge scene and all of the sudden the owner comes around the corner and says, "you gotta get her up. If you don't get her up I have to call the police". Police?! Fuck that. So I grab her shoulders and start shaking her, yelling her name, slapping her in the face, yelling her name some more and it's like she's dead. No response, limp body, nothing. "Get her up, get her up Wong...you have two minutes!" I actually stopped to check her pulse, that's how non-responsive she was. Luckily she still had one. I start slapping her harder, pinching her, screaming at her and still, nothing. Finally I scream, "KARI, if you don't wake up and get the fuck off this ground he is going to call the POLICE and you are GOING TO JAIL TONIGHT!" All of the sudden her eyes fly open and she rolls over and crawls over to a booth and crawls up into the seat. A kind waitress gets her a glass of water and offers to sit with her while I pull the car up to the front door. I half carry her to the car and shove her in the passengers seat and drive every so carefully the two miles home. We pull into my driveway and she says she has to barf. As soon as I put the car in park she opens the door and hangs her head out and starts calling the dinosaurs. She says, "Sorry I got a little in the inside of your car." She must not have realized that we took her car. ;)

Oh wait, there's more.

We wake in the morning in my bed and after a few seconds she asks, "why am I naked right now?" Um...what?! I look around the basement and I don't see her clothes. (she wasn't TOTALLY naked, she had on a tank top) Where the hell are her clothes? Why is she naked in my bed? (I had all of my clothes on by the way, don't get any pervy ideas!) I go upstairs and I find her sweatshirt laying on the kitchen floor. I make a frozen pizza, we eat it in my bed, contemplating where the hell her undies and pants are. I search all around the house and after about an hour I find them in the dryer. Why the hell were they in the dryer? She remembers drinking water and spilling on her pants. That must be why they are in the dryer.

The next day I ask my roomie if she remembers why Kari's sweatshirt was in the kitchen and her pants were in the dryer. Was it because she spilled water on herself? She says no, it's because when you guys got home she laid down on the living room floor and said she was going to sleep there. But then she started peeing her pants. Did she really pee on the carpet?! No, she peed just a little in her pants but then jumped up and made it into the bathroom. So you put her pants in the dryer.

Here we both are at a skinnier and tanner time of our lives.

Love You Blarb!