I may be lucky in love now, but from the series I posted this fall on my dating history as you'll recall, it wasn't always so. Besides, I have been way too mushy the last few posts. You guys want to hear the tale of my most ridiculous drunken and awkward Valentines Day ever right? That's what I thought.
*Sidenote: Nat and I were discussing a topic of what could be a hilarious blog last night that we later deamed "too much info." On that note, I once wrote a little more g-rated version of this on the old myspace blog and decided I could be more forth telling on what all really happened this time around.*
I had just moved to Annapolis in January of 2004 and was living with Ramsay and Eli. The three of us had actually gone to High School together, but never knew each other well. Valentines Day fell on a Saturday that year and Ram was taking his girlfriend out. My friends Brandon and Becca were also single so we joined up with Eli and proceeded to consume alcohol. Lots of it. Becca and I were coming out of a love affair with Malibu Rum and into one with a nice bottle of Vodka. We downed shots like the effect would be the same. This is the night when I learned Rum and Vodka are not the same. The boys were drinking just as much as we were and I have vague memories of us all wandering around the house from room to room and having a grand old time. It was an interesting mix of new friendships and fun was in the air. We weren't drinking away our single sorrows, we just happened single, in our 20's, and it was Saturday night!
The four of us left in a cab for McGarvey's downtown alarmingly intoxicated. While Becca and Eli caught up from High School, (we all actually went to high school together) three friendly bar-goers offered to share their booth with Brandon and me. Two guys and a girl. It turned out, they grew up not too far from where we did so we instantly had something in common. They were so nice and kept buying us beers even before we ran out or had the opportunity to return the favor. Although, it was a little odd that the girl had her hand on my leg...
In our pregaming vodka haze we failed to realize we were fratenizing with swingers until they invited us back to their house after the round of shots they had just treated us to and simultaniously suggested I make out with the chick. Realizing they thought Brandon and I were together, I started inching his way in hopes he had a plan to escape. Not quickly enough though. Before I knew it, the girl started kissing me and I was suddenly in a slow motion time warp of how did my life get to this? My eyes were open and the bar was sort of spinning around me (not just because of the alchohol) and I wasn't sure how remove myself from the situation. I must have caught the confused look of Becca, or Eli, or maybe Brandon helped me out of the debacle in progress. Regardless, I think I was greeted by a "Were you just kissing that girl?" from one of them.
It was a hazy night. I'm fairly confident we did not gracefully extract ourselves from the situation, but rather slinked away from the table, hailed a cab and passed out in preperation for vicious hangovers never to discuss the night again. Well, until I decided to share it on my blog of course.
Night Notes did not exist yet back then, but nights like this are exactly the reason they do now.