The day began with a group hike out to Tibag and ended in a puddle of vomit. In between, there was the SOB dance competition and too much gin.
I arrived at Alaska Club when the doors opened at 5 p.m. and sat at my favorite table. I called one of the dancers not competing in the SOB down to keep me company for the evening. I tried to pace myself by limiting myself to one watered-down gin every thirty minutes. Of course, drinks are free during the event (you pay 700 pesos to get in), and I may have gone off plan to make sure I got my money’s worth of alcohol. Still, when the show ended at 8 p.m. I was still doing fine.
Well, fine enough to walk the half-kilometer up the highway to Wet Spot, where The Aftermath event was taking place. Things are very fuzzy after that. My regular gal, Aine, joined me at my table for drinks. I vaguely remember the trike ride home, but not much else. Aine messaged me this morning to check up on me. She said she had never seen me that drunk before. Told me I had stumbled going up on stage to collect my raffle prize. I didn’t remember that at all. I left early, and she helped me get a trike. I thanked her for taking care of me. It’s scary, though, when you have no recollection of events between arrival and departure.
I got home with my wallet and phone intact. Sat down at my desk and logged into the laptop. Next thing I know, I’m throwing up on the floor. Twice. I guess my helper heard me because she came out of her room, moved me to the couch, and cleaned up my mess. I woke up at 3 a.m. and went into my bedroom and slept some more.
So, that’s me when I’m drunk. Even though I drink some every day, I only get that kind of drunk once or twice a year. I like to remember whatever fun I might have had, and I don’t ever want to be falling down or otherwise losing control of my faculties. And if I’m drunk enough to vomit, I’ve definitely crossed the line.
It’s weird, though, because it didn’t seem like I was drinking to such excess. Again, I buy one shot of gin and have it served in a tall glass. I also buy a can of soda water. I fill the glass with water, have a couple of sips, then refill the glass. I follow that process until I’ve emptied the 12-ounce soda can. So, in reality, I’m probably drinking the equivalent of only a 1/3 shot of gin in each drink. Granted, my night was maybe an hour longer than normal, but that doesn’t really explain my level of inebriation. You know what? I’m going to have to blame this on an adverse reaction to my recent vaccination. Yeah, that’s got to be it!
Anyway, I’m going to try and be a little more cognizant of my intake. I honestly don’t like being drunk. My target is having a comfortable buzz. Maybe I’ll say fuck the beer belly and go back to San Mig Zero. We’ll see.
UPDATE: Just got out of the shower and noticed this beauty from my adventures last night:
The day began much better than it ended. We don’t get out to Tibag more than a couple of times a year, but it’s always a pleasant place to hike. The only way to get out there is in a private vehicle, so that limits our opportunities to go, especially now that the Hashmobile is no more. We had nine of us (and Max’s dog) in two cars yesterday, and it worked out fine. I’ll let the photos tell the story:
That’s how I spent my day yesterday. A walkaholic by day and an alcoholic when the sun goes down. Or so it would appear. I can and will do better.
