I used to not drink well at all.
Lisa Voorhis was this girl I knew in high school. She was a great
person - she always seemed happy and excited. She was the person who
prodded me and cajoled me into asking my first girlfriend (in the 8th
grade) to dance for the first time. That's another story altogether...
Last time I talked with her, years ago, she said she had married Jeff
Collins so I guess her name would be Lisa Collins... although it didn't
seem like they even knew each other in high school, but what does that
matter?
"ANYWAY!!!"
One year she had a party at her house while her parents were away. We
all got very drunk - I don't remember many people who were there - and
I eventually found a place to pass out.
For some reason I chose her bathtub and for some other reason I decided
to draw the curtain.
After a while I was awoken to rustling in the bathroom. It was the
middle of the night.
I shifted around and then sat up.
I heard a gasp.
Lisa was on the toilet and she just realized I was in there with
her.
She didn't really freak out, probably because she was in shock, and
eventually we straightened out what was going on:
I passed out in the tub.
She pee'd in the same room as me.
I saw nothing.
She wasn't pissed. Figuratively.
After that I went into the kitchen and found a nice place to sleep
under the table, and she proceeded to tease me about the incident for
weeks to come, and eventually I forgot about it all
until I woke up this morning
perhaps I thought of that story because I woke up with a headache like
my head against a board because I drank one too many beers last
night
or I've been listening to too much Indigo Girls
or perhaps I felt my text message
entry was lacking...
who knows?
but if you think that was a not so great story as to why I used to not
drink well
then you should hear about my old teenage habit of sprinting head first
into telephone poles every time I drank.
Perhaps that would explain a few thing...
Hrmmm.
