by Rachael Brighton
She is High Drunk
It was the summer of 1998, and I was working at Six Flags Great America on a summer internship program. There were a lot of college students working different internships, and most of us were placed in housing together.
I made a lot of friends that summer, and we all spent a lot of time together outside work. As summer was drawing to a close, myself and a group of friends decided to go out for one last hoorah.
We started out by going on a couple's dinner, and then were going to meet up with a bunch of our supervisors and friends later at a local bar. Dinner was nice... we went to the Olive Garden and had a few carafes of wine with our meal.
By the time the six of us finished our meal, we were all feeling lightly buzzed and giddy. We went to a bar called the Boathouse in Kenosha, WI, at that point to meet up with the rest of our group. The sun was just going down, and the Boathouse was starting to get crowded.
The windows in the back of the bar were open, and I could smell Lake Michigan and feel the breeze coming through the windows, warming my skin and enveloping my hair.
I ordered a Captain Morgan and coke, and drank it quickly, and then ordered another one to sip. I was feeling really loose at this point, and my group of friends had completely taken over the bar. We decided we wanted to go somewhere else to sing Karaoke and turn up the volume, so I finished my drink and we moved on to the next place.
The next bar was more of a dance club atmosphere. I wish I could remember the name of it, but I was pretty buzzed by this point. I can remember meeting up with some of my supervisors at work, and knowing I didn't want to sing because I have a horrible voice. I did, however, want to dance.
So when a group of people from my department decided to sing, I went up in front of the group and was a back-up dancer for them. Looking back, I made a complete fool of myself, but it was quite fun at the time! A waitress was walking around with shots of Harvey Wallbangers.
They tasted like Hawaiian Punch, so I had one, and then followed it with several more. I also started drinking beer... Rolling Rock was my beer of choice that night. It was starting to get late, and the man I was dating at the time had to work early the next day.
He left and I decided to stay on with one of my supervisors and a few other people. I had more shots and more beer. Around two a.m., the bar closed, but my small remaining group wasn't done with the party yet.
Somebody suggested we get more beer and head down to the lake to drink more beer and hang out some more. I thought, at the time, it was a lovely idea. I am unsure how many more beers I had at that point or how much longer we were out, or where I even was.
But I did get home sometime just before sunrise. I stumbled in and lay down in bed, and was awakened by one of my roommates telling me I was going to be sick. I told her she was crazy, and I was fine, but as I lay back down, I knew she was right.
I began to run to the bathroom to vomit, but didn't make it. I stood in the hallway, vomiting, for several minutes before my roommate yelled for me to get into the bathroom.
I entered the bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet, but turned to the side and vomited on the floor next to the toilet.
I continued to vomit next to the toilet until my roommate woke me up and told me to get INTO the toilet. I was too drunk to comprehend what I was doing. The next morning when I awakened, I felt like I had been hit by a bus.
I had never vomited the day after drinking before, but this was the first time. I felt awful, and the whole apartment reeked of my vomit from the garlicky Italian food I had the night before. I vowed I would never drink again.
I didn't stick to my promise to never drink again, but I don't think I have had that much to drink ever since.
Photos from Nika & olliethebastard
Join the community and write your own page! Simply click here and contribute to Drinking Stories.