sadly, not from my youth...
something i should have taken care of on my 21st birthday maybe but i saved it until my 27th for some reason. my birthday, at the bar, friend's band playing, friends buying drinks, bar tenders giving up shots-- 151 and worse in the mix. hours of it. feeling plenty drunk but fine through the night, saying goodbye to everybody, get in the car with wife driving, still feeling fine with the windows rolled down and fresh air streaming. over the course of the drive home the windows go up and i slowly slide down into a ball in the space your feet go, below the dash. we get home, wife tries to get me out, i'm feeling crappy and saying i'll come in in a little while. she pulls me out of the car and onto the sidewalk, tells me to get up and go inside, i'm mumbling to leave me alone and i'll come in later. after 10 minutes of this she's over me and goes inside to call the fire department. she's a nurse and so she knows most of the local fire department and sure enough the fireman who show up are all people she works with which makes her extra pissed because now she gets to hear about this at work. they come pick me up from my puddle-like position on the sidewalk, i tell them to leave me alone, i can walk. they do. i can't walk. they pick me up again, drag me into my apartment, my wife tells them to deposit me in the bathroom where i proceed to puke and have the shakes the entire night, hours long, can't pass out. finally sleep for an hour next to the toilet. wake up, deal with the aftermath. my wife tells all my friends the story the following day, and so to this day anytime my friends see me even with a beer, it's "uh oh, call the fire department!"