I've been weighing three experiences here, two in '05 when I was 16 in Southern California and one when I was 25. Here's my submission:
When I was in high-school, I used to be able to buy booze at a liquor store. The place was corrupt but I felt like I had to front. I literally used the line from Dazed and Confused "Working for the city, nice to get a cold beer on a Friday". I think the owner didn't give a shit and just wanted the sales.
In that time period, we partied in a river bottom adjacent to our high school. Because it never rained, it was essentially a giant beach that smelled like sewage... but it was ours. Started with myself and the people who skated, getting high down there or even sleeping out there. Within a few months, the spot is totally burned out and every Friday night has at least 100 people down there. Even with dozens of kids hopping a fence next to a public park, no one caught on until this fateful evening.
On this Friday in October '05, we decided to throw a giant party. Made a beer/ weed fund that had a few hundred bucks in it and divided on supplies - Person X will buy an ounce of weed, Person Y gets the blunt wraps, Person Z is responsible for leaving their shift at mcdonalds with to-go bags filled to the brim with french fries. I was in charge of buying booze for 200 people.
I go to the liquor store with an older friend who drives. I walk in with a grocery list from a dozen shit-head kids... Vodka for Stacey, keystone for Jimmy, etc. The most in-demand item was Miller High-Life 32's. I walk in, buy the small stuff and realize there's a sale happening. Instead of giving the money back or pocketing cash, we decide to buy everything we could. We loaded his car with at least 5 cases of Miller High Life 32's. I remember seeing it and thinking I was going to look like god when I hopped that fence.
We arrive back to the River bottom, at the fence where you needed to hop in order to get to the "safe zone". We form a train of about 20 people to pass boxes of booze from the fence to the stash spot. After about 20 minutes, the car is unloaded and the party begins.
At the time, a girl had a crush on me and would not leave me alone. In hindsight, she was the sweetest person I'd ever met (outside of my now wife) and I really should have made an effort to be more kind.
Anyways, fast forward to about 3 hours in... I've consumed so much beer that I cannot keep track of what is happening. This, on top of smoking joints like they're cigarettes, my brain is on a plane that it has never seen. The girl who has a crush on me, lays next to me in the sewage sand and begins to makeout with me. After about 30 seconds, I turn to the side and proceed to puke my brains out. I'm 90% sure I had alcohol poisoning and could not find an end to the beer coming from me. Exorcist type of projective vomitting, inches away from the girl I'm with, who is inevitably getting splashed by it. Safe to say we never spoke after that night.
My friends hear about it and drag me to a 10' wall, leaving my head laying over the side to continue dry heaving. If I remember correctly, there's at least 50 people watching me dying as I overlook a bonfire on the floor below me. After this, I black out and do not recall anything
Flash forward a few hours - I awake to 3 people dragging me by my legs through 3' bushes and rocks, up the river bottom. Looking around, there's cops everywhere. The police response looked like a bomb went off in the river bottom - dozens of cops, dogs barking, sirens and flashlights everywhere. Once I realize I'm being dragged across what feels like a dull bed of nails, I spring up to run. Not remembering how drunk I am, I immediately fall over and realize I cannot fucking walk. My brain is totally fine, I fully understand what's happening but I cannot speak coherently or use my limbs in any intended fashion. I simply let out a guttural moan and give up, in the sewage sand. A mutual friend (who no one liked and treated poorly) looks back at me, hesitates, and proceeds to carry me on his fucking back to safety. L.F., if you're reading this, you are the fucking man.
We eventually make it two blocks away to a friends house. His parents work overnight and we setup camp in his garage. The next morning, I wake up feeling just fine and not remembering anything from the time I was dragged to the wall to when I was dragged across the rocks. My parents never really knew what I did on the weekends until alter in high school but,I swear to god, if I ever have kids... I will whoop their ass if they get hammered in sewage sands.
Topic: Your worst drunk experience(s) (Read 3259 times)