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bigbair
New member
I was the proud guest of the local 'Metro Detention Center' this weekend. It appears that after hours of drinking at an obscene pace with some friends I hadn't seen in a loooong time I managed to do something I apparently shouldn't have (at least that was the city's point of view). What is really bothering me is that I have NO recollection of what happened. One second I'm downing another shot of bourbon and the next I'm being photographed downtown. Absolutely no memory of it. My friends said I just disappeared and they didn't see me again.
I spent the next twelve hours with some of the city's most upstanding individuals of various nationalities and heard very little english. They had a cozy steel cot all set up for me with some dude named 'Ramirez' puking on the one beneath it. The only thing I know for sure is that I got my ass kicked somewhere along the line, which is mostly evident by the swollen jaw, knots on the head, and bleeding ear. I don't think this went at all in my favor because my fists don't hurt at all.
I emerged onto the street on Saturday around lunch not knowing where I was (I don't spend much time in this city), where my truck was (last left with the valet at the bars) or where my friends were. I had $10 cash in my pocket and had to pick up my girlfriend from the airport across town in approximately one hour.
So I figured I'll chalk this up to experience and consider laying off the sauce for a while (maybe indefinitely). It's not so much the asswhooopin' I took or the complementary nights stay in the drunk tank, but the fact that I don't even remember any of it to tell a good story to my buddies. I'm sure many of you can relate with a similar story and I hope someone found this slightly amusing.
I spent the next twelve hours with some of the city's most upstanding individuals of various nationalities and heard very little english. They had a cozy steel cot all set up for me with some dude named 'Ramirez' puking on the one beneath it. The only thing I know for sure is that I got my ass kicked somewhere along the line, which is mostly evident by the swollen jaw, knots on the head, and bleeding ear. I don't think this went at all in my favor because my fists don't hurt at all.
I emerged onto the street on Saturday around lunch not knowing where I was (I don't spend much time in this city), where my truck was (last left with the valet at the bars) or where my friends were. I had $10 cash in my pocket and had to pick up my girlfriend from the airport across town in approximately one hour.
So I figured I'll chalk this up to experience and consider laying off the sauce for a while (maybe indefinitely). It's not so much the asswhooopin' I took or the complementary nights stay in the drunk tank, but the fact that I don't even remember any of it to tell a good story to my buddies. I'm sure many of you can relate with a similar story and I hope someone found this slightly amusing.
