Weekend Musings

Once again, technical issues prevented me from giving you the loyal reader what you wanted this weekend. Ok, maybe if you count technical issues as “I left my laptop in the office because I was going out drinking and didn’t want to lose it and didn’t get out of bed the rest of the weekend to go pick it up,” then that statement would be correct. Fortunately, it does mean that there was drunk Barney debauchery so it might be worth it.

Friday night started off with a happy hour for Duke Girl’s birthday. I was supposed to be off on Friday, but I had to go by the office at around 4 to finish something because my manager had to leave early because her mom passed a kidney stone (I’m not making that up. That was her reason.) So pissed off that I had to go in, I decided to start drinking while at work. So before we even got to the bar, I had a little buzz going. I also decided not to eat anything. Not the best idea I’ve ever had. Also, I had decided that I wasn’t going to put anything more than the bare minimum effort to get some because she was probably going to be too drunk, so this led to her trying to talk to me while they interviewed Run DMC about his “character” and him being on the cover of NCAA Football 2009. Let’s just say I wasn’t looking at her very much during this time.

Around 7 we decided to do shots. Me being the gentlemen, I offered a round of Henny. My experience so far is that white people are legitimately scared of Henny (I have to increase my cracker hating if I want to keep up with Brock’s blog.). I tried to be calm and use logic such as, “It’s 80 proof just like every other hard liquor.” When that didn’t work, I turned to Filthy O, who introduced me to the brown liquor that I love so much. He must have had experience such as this. How would he react? His response is the early candidate for best text of the year: “Hahaha it wasn’t meant 4 crack consumption kid only niggas n drunk irish folk like you man” I couldn’t have said it better myself (for the record, the 2007 winner for best text in case you were wondering (and judging by attendance, you haven’t)was J-Man’s “Just because I answered my door almost naked because I was too hung over to find my pants, and I received a box full of booze doesn’t mean I’m not classy.”) We finally decided on Jager shots which meant black out Barney wasn’t too far away. I played my cards right and yes, DG did get too drunk. So that meant me and LA ditched that party and went to another bar. This one was notable in that it had a bathroom attendant in a white suit. LA hit on him, not knowing what his job was (she apparently likes classy men) and I called him Lebron (unfortunately, jokes about 2004 NBA Draft attire do not get caught very often. This was not one that anyone else got).

Saturday was Stan Man’s birthday. When I got the e-mail a couple weeks ago, I think my liver recoiled upon hearing that there would be a bar crawl. I still hadn’t sobered up from Friday night, so this had disaster written all over it. We started at a pool hall. We left just in time because apparently this was a Duke bar. I walked out of the place giving the middle finger to nearly the entire place. It was just 9 at this point. At the next bar, I started having the fiscal responsibility of a rap star. I was put in charge of watching some girls drinks. Given this simple task, I was unable to complete it, as I turned my head, the bartender took the drinks and dumped them. Feeling bad, I bought them all another round (goodbye $25). The next bar was smart and wouldn’t even allow me in. I stumbled a bit walking up the stairs, and the bouncer did his best Amy Winehouse impression and said, “No, no, no” to my ass getting in that bar. I probably should have realized this was time to slow down, but they don’t call me Barney for nothing. I simply went to the bar next door and ordered a round of tequila shots and beers. Except only one person followed me. So I had 6 drinks, only one other person to drink with and to make matters worse, everyone else was going to another bar. So it was either ditch those beers and just do the shot quickly or get lost. I think I made the right decision ($45 wasted). I also made the wise choice to drop my $20 on the floor. The bar was really dark, it was dropped in between the chairs of two women. I made a half assed effort to find it, but not being able to see anything made this difficult. I didn’t think getting on my knees was the best idea considering I had just been denied entrance at my previous stop, so I just considered it lost. (So in total, I’ve wasted $90. And that’s just what I remember. I’m afraid to look at my bank statement/credit card bill).

We brought the crawl home with one final stop. This one let me in, but wouldn’t serve me anything but water. Yet they continued to serve Stan Man who we had to prop up so he could stand. Pretty soon after that I decided that this bar didn’t deserve my business and walked out. Nothing like being the drunk guy who thinks he’s too good for everyone. Anyway, I ended up sleeping in my own bed, which was some sort of accomplishment because I had been told I was probably passing out in public again.

I think that’s it my liver’s Batan death march this weekend. I’d like to thank my brother for pointing out the Sports Guy pretty much echoed my sentiments about the Pacers in his NBA blog. He took it a step further and reminded me that he gets paid a lot of money to do the same thing I did for free. Thanks douchebag.