I wish I could say that I had an amazing Thanksgiving day story for 2010 , but I ended up eating a Hungry Man dinner and watching the New England Patriots rape the Detroit Lions. Thanksgiving 2009 was far more interesting. In 2009 my friends and I were obsessed with the popular TV show "How I Met your Mother". In the show two of the main characters have a feud going where one can slap the other in the face at any given time. He chooses to deliver the slap on Thanksgiving. He calls it "Slapsgiving". The story forthcoming is about a trip my friend Pasta and I made up to DC to visit my friend LL (from the "Evacuate the Dancefloor story") for Thanksgiving. Or as I would later call it Slapsgiving.
Pasta and I packed up his SUV and prepared for the 4-5 hour drive to DC. We made a stop at the on base grocery store. We did this primarily because the food and alcohol are a lot cheaper there and they have everything. Pasta browsed the aisles and ended up picking up a liter of vodka and a liter of rum. I picked up 2 bottles of champagne (for mimosas) and a bottle of Everclear. I was absolutely enamored with Everclear. Where I come from Everclear is illegal because of its high alcohol content. It's 190 proof. I was very excited by my purchase and was super excited to lay it on my friends when I arrived in DC.
This Thanksgiving was going to be awesome because I was going to be spending it with LL, Pasta, The YAK brothers , Zak and Ed. I grew up with LL, Zak and Ed. So I was focused on making it special (insert the Everclear).
We arrived in DC around 10pm the night before Thanksgiving. LL had already prepared everything for the next day so there was no work to done on my part which was great. I entered the room holding the bottle of Everclear behind my back like a father trying to surprise his child.
Me: I've got a surprise for youuuuu....
I revealed the bottle, fist pumping it over my head , brandishing it like it was the Holy Grail. I expected the room to erupt in cheers..... But there was nothing but silence. I swear a tumble weed skipped across the room, I could hear a cricket lightly chirping in the distance.
LL:Wha.... What the fuck is that? Is that Everclear?.... I'm not drinking that shit.
Ed: Yeah that shit is gross dude.
Me: You guys are pussies.... Fine if that's the way you're going to be then I'll have to drink this entire thing myself. Fuck you guys!
I decided that I would try and do everything in my power to RUIN Thanksgiving for everyone.I figured it wouldn't be too hard considering I had an entire liter of Everclear all to myself and relatively short time to consume all of it. I spent the rest of the night sitting on the couch drinking Everclear and mercilessly ranking on my friends for the their choice of alcohol.
Me: Hey uh LL... Whatcha got there? A little bud light? Faaaagggg!
The drunker I got the more flagrant my abuse became.
Me: Hey uh Ed.... Whatcha got there? Whiskey? You're the biggest pussy I've ever met , Nana Bessy (my sweet grandmother) puts whiskey in her coffee!!! Douche! ( of course my grandmother doesnt drink whiskey).
The night continued like this until I passed out on the couch. I awoke the next morning hoping that I had put some sort of dent in the volume of liquor that was in the bottle. To be completely honest I hated the taste of Everclear. The taste is comparable to rubbing alcohol. I was certain that I drank at least half the bottle because I was shitfaced the night prior. But to my dismay there was at least 75% remaining. I was deflated but not beaten. I immediately poured myself an Everclear and sprite and went to work.
Around noon LL began bringing out a rather impressive spread of food. A turkey, a ham, mashed potatoes, yams, stuffing, cranberries all coupled with delicious gravy. I'll give him credit, he did an incredible job at preparing this meal... This prompted me to get dressed because I was still in my underwear and an old T-shirt. It became apparent to everyone that the Everclear might be getting the best of me. I PILED food onto my plate disregarding all dinner time etiquette. I carried the bottle of Everclear under my arm as if it were my baby blanket. Knowing good and well that I was shitfaced beyond belief Pasta decided to test my boundaries.
Pasta: Hey dude, the Cowboys are playing the Raiders, I'll slap bet you for it.... I'll take the Cowboys to win.
Me: No fucking way. The Cardinals will definitely win.
Pasta: Yes the COWBOYS will probably win. But I'll give you 10 to 1 odds. If you win you can slap me 10 times and if I win I get only one measly slap. Come on , what to do say?
We finished dinner and decided to lay around and watch football. And of course the Cowboys won. I knew I was in for it now. Pasta is 5'8'' 220 pounds and pretty built. This was scary because I knew he'd show little mercy.
Pasta: You're fucked now!
Me: Ahh fuck , whatever you hit like a little girl anyway! Lay it on me.
Pasta: No way I'm going to nail you when you least expect it.
I knew I was fucked and that I would be looking over my shoulder Don Corleone style until I received my slap. But I pushed it into the back of mind and continued with my drunken behavior. We decided the best course of action would be to hit the bars in Georgetown. At this point my friends were more interested to see what I was going to do rather than having a good time. I was happy to oblige with some rather uncouth behavior. I drank and drank and drank and everyone watched and waited. I was actually on relatively good behavior , so Pasta decided to mix things up a bit. I was standing by a huge mirror that covered a 10 foot by 10 foot area. I was speaking about gods knows what but definitely on my soap box.
Me: So I says to Mable I says.....
The next thing I know my knees were buckling as I crashed into the mirror. Pasta had laid a slap on me of epic proportions. He was right and I didn't see it coming. My head connected with the mirror creating an enormous jagged crack down the center. I immediately started rubbing my jaw like someone exiting the dentist. Pasta grabbed me.
Pasta: We need to go NOW!
Apparently a waitress had seen the slap, thought it was fight and alerted the bar staff. Of course being drunk as fuck and in a rush I left my tab open and my credit card at the bar. Fuck my life.... We later ended up at the Capitol Lounge. As I previously stated the Cap lounge is small and somewhat boring. But the bar staff is cool and never seems to have a problem with our drunken shenanigans. This is where I saw my MMA fighter. She was drinking whiskey neat and she wasn't ugly. My friend LL began telling me that she was in fact an MMA fghter that trains at the gym where he takes Krav Maga classes. He told me 2 things about her. #1 he's seen her knock out a few guys before and #2 she was missing a tooth. Now you think the missing tooth may deterred me but I was somewhat smitten at this point. I always wanted to sleep with a women that could beat the shit out of me, I don't know why. I engaged her in conversation and told her of my military affiliation and that I was quite the fighter myself. She reciprocated with stories of the women and men she's bested in the ring. I knew at this point that coitus was not far off.
|This is what she looked like when I was drunk, ya know sans tooth..... Pictured here is MMA fighter Gina Carano|
We arrived at her apartment, which for some reason looked like Dick Tracy's office. It was old and everything in it looked like remnants from the "Roaring 20's". Coincidentally her liquor cabinet was similar. It was jam packed with old mason jars full of moonshine that her parents sent her from Kentucky. As much as I like booze , drinking something mixed in someones bath tub is way over the line for me. I deferred from drinking that rot gut garbage and watched as she took shots of it with impunity. We eventually went to her bedroom where we had angry violent sex. I'm cringing as I write this. Having to return to that night in my head is enough to send me to therapy. The one thing I remember above all is her clammy skin. It was sweltering in her room and for some reason her skin was cold and clammy. Anyway I awoke the next morning and hauled ass out of there. We exchanged numbers and she to this day texts me about all of the exciting things she's doing (insert yawn)...... I never respond. Every now and again when I visit DC I see her at the Cap lounge and I have to sneak out before she sees me otherwise I may be engaged in some sort of physical confrontation.
|This is similar to what I woke up next to.... Bone chilling isnt it?|