I've been back home visiting family recently. One night I decided to hit up everybody from high school that I haven't talked to in four years to go to the bar. Naturally.
I pulled up to an Irish pub in my hometown and found some buddies at the bar. We got caught up for a little bit. Someone told an embarrassing story of things I may or may not have done in a branch campus bathroom. It was a good time.
Then somebody said the words that make me cringe just typing them.
"Three tequila shots, please."
...you sadistic bastard.
Now, don't get me wrong. I never turn down a drink (especially when it comes with a lime and some salt), but I think we have all had run-ins with good ol' Tortilla Tequila.
Sometime she takes people's clothes off. Sometimes she makes people angry. I can tell you one thing for sure; she kicks my ass.
Every. Single. Time.
I take this this shot down and it hits me in the throat like a startled black belt. I licked the salt off my hand and go to bite down on the lime, and it slipped out of my hand at the last second. So now I'm just gagging like a girl trying to give head for the first time. I almost died.
I have one or two or..seven more drinks after that, and I hear someone say words a little more pleasing than taking shots of lighter fluid.
"Let's play pong."
But this isn't regular water pong you would find at your average party. This is trash can pong, where solo cups and ping pong balls are replaced with trash cans and volleyballs. It's also commonly referred to as a recipe for disaster.
It took about three shots before my partner pulled a Christian Hackenberg and hit someone with a stray volleyball and knocked over his beer. He shot up like a pop tart out the toaster and yelled "HEY! ASSHOLE!"
My partner turns to me and goes "God dammit, do you think I should buy him a drink?"
I should probably mention I can turn into a bit of a dick when I'm drunk. So I fire back, "Nah dude, it's his fault for sitting by the trash can."
Then our buddy Schoolboy Cue Ball (he's losing his hair) came up and told us that if we did not buy that guy a drink, he was going to personally kick both of our asses. We called a time out, and my partner went over to the bar to buy the cheapest beer he could.
When he returned, it was the other team's shot.
You can call it chance, or the force of the universe or karma, but the fact of the matter is some days God smiles at you and other days he gives you the finger.
The girl on the other team shot the ball, and it bounced right off the rim of the trash can to hit me square in the face. My nose starts gushing blood. Her partner tries to pull a fast one on us and shoots before I can even yell out in pain. That ball also bounces off the rim and hits me right in the nads.
I was blindsided, and the pain pushed me over the edge. I limped over and puked in the one trash can that coincidentally wasn't involved in our little game.
After I picked myself up and cleaned myself off, the other team came over, apologized profusely, and asked if I wanted to finish the game.
I thought of my favorite rapper, Lil Dicky. He recorded his album Professional Rapper while infected with pink eye and asked himself: what would Michael Jordan do?
He would play through the pink eye.
So I got up and SPANKED that team with my partner and the next three teams that came up to challenge us. We didn't miss a shot.