04 November 2011

The Best Time I Did Not Want To Have | Halloween ii

When last we met, our heroine (me) was intoxicated at a level still unbeknownst to her and to the members of her party. The result, is two stories. There is the story I remember, and the story of what I'm told happened. The only real difference is time. I feel like the following happened in a matter of minutes. The reality, is that it was a matter of hours. So I take you back to my apartment, on that fateful Saturday night. 

Ready!
We were festive and we were ready. We took two cabs, because there were 5 of us and chances of us getting a van were slim. Jason the Pirate & Jess the Biker Chick / Rockstar took the first cab. I waited with Prince William & Kate Middleton, aka Dave & Kristen. It didn't take us long to get a taxi and hit the road. I'm getting car sick. I'll open the window. We got to the W and stood in line at the door. I don't feel well. This is going to pass. No. No this most definitely will not pass. Where's the classiest place to vomit? The curb. Go back to the curb.

I left William and Kate and (as daintily as possible) crouched down next to a tree on the curb. I did my business and I popped back up as if nothing happened. I remember Prince William looking at me from the line and mouthing "are you okay?" I nodded, said I was fine and got back in place. Jason & Jess were right on the other side of the door waiting. Someone checked my ID and gave me a bracelet. I realized I was not in the best shape. I don't remember conveying that to Jess, but she did bring me right to the restroom. Apparently there were stairs involved, and I was able to navigate them. 
Jess & I spent some time in our stall. I'm ruining the party. We haven't even gone into the party. When did I get so drunk? I can pull it together. We can wash me up and get to dancing. I just need to rest a little. Meanwhile I continued to hurl in a most unladylike manner. I remember Jess got sick too, but who can stand to be around vomit without joining the party? Hotel security came after an hour, and Jess convinced him we were fine. 

No I don't want water Jess. I want to stay here and take a nap. That french manicure is really close to my face. That's not Jess. Why is she putting her hand in my mouth? Her nails are scratching the soft part of the roof of my mouth. They hurt. I'm going to throw up all over again. 

Apparently that was the point. A self-described EMT dressed as an 80's jogger heard my plight, washed her hands, got some water and crawled under stall door to help. She told Jess I had to keep vomiting. She then forced me to do as much. Now. You may ask yourself why my dear pal would allow a stranger with a acrylics to shove her hand down my throat. Jess would later say she looked liked she knew what she was doing. And at this point, I'm pretty sure she did.
The head of security returned, positive that we were very much not okay. An astute observation if ever one was made. He said if I couldn't walk, they would have to call an ambulance. So call an ambulance. I have insurance. I don't feel like walking. Fortunately I did not actually say such nonsense. Jess and someone (?) got me out of the restroom. The EMT / 80's jogger's EMT boyfriend also appeared. He checked some stuff and declared me fine, and as just needing a lot of water. I felt emotionally awful, physically sleepy. We just got here and now I'm making everyone leave. I'm so sorry. I'm a bad friend. I would later feel worse, realizing hours had passed, not minutes. 
The head of security (Robert, who Jason says was really pleasant) said we were not going to get a cab with me looking the way I looked. My head is just so heavy, otherwise I would totes lift it. And he was right. We opened the door to one cab and as Jess started pushing me inside, the driver started driving away. And then there was a much nicer option. An Escalade that I am told was very nice. Why is this door so high? This is the biggest step I've ever taken to get inside a car. I'm going to have to jump to get out. Once again, we were on our way. I'm getting car sick. I can't handle this. I started heaving. Jess whispered "do not throw up. Do NOT throw up. You can do it." Jess is right. I can hold it. The truth is I probably couldn't have if not for the EMT / 80's jogger emptying my tummy. There was nothing left. The heaves were deep and painful. Magically, I was home. Though my head was still so incredibly heavy, I took out my keys and told Jess which one to use. I do try to be as helpful as possible. She and Jason walked me up the stairs and I saw my bed. It was awesome.

Post brunch. Glad to be alive.
They worked like elves, getting me covered, hydrated and less blue. I woke up Sunday at 7, cozy and not feeling that bad. Jess was there next to me, like an angel. She filled in some blanks. I ate tortilla chips. We took a nap, then went to brunch with eight other people. I would have bailed, if I had not organized it. And I'm glad I didn't. I would have just sat home and wallowed in embarrassment. I mean yes, I am an adult. I didn't do anything illegal. I was well within the societal standards, considering it was Halloween. But I felt / feel bad. It was shameful. I don't know the last time I was involved with security removing me from a hotel. I suppose it's easy enough to block out. It's just tacky. It's not very Danie of me. But it happened. I can't take it back. I can only clean up the smudges of blue face paint that keep appearing in randon places. It gave me a tale to tell. AND it earned Jess & Jason vouchers for one free night of Danie-care, no questions asked, because friends are totes awesome.

01 November 2011

The Best Time I Did Not Want To Have | Halloween 2011

Clueless. Halloween '08
Sometime in my adult life, I developed a love of Halloween. It may have something to do with my love of cartoons and other fun things. It may not. It probably does. This year, for the first time since arriving here in 2008, I decided not to got to Vegas for Halloween. I suppose it was because time inevitably changes things. People stop having parties. People stop being friends. Airfare triples. And still, the party must go on. This year I was intent on bringing said party to the Bay. It was not going to be an easy task. I work with a lot of people who pride themselves on keeping friendships strictly within the confines of the building. It's a social hindrance at best; realistically a sociological anomaly fit for a study. Still as October came to a close, I decided there was time to do something awesome. And like magic, two people appeared out of the long, drab, hallway. They brought ideas and enthusiasm for days. We came up with themed, group costume. We started recruiting group members and looking for parties. I would say we had a solid week of planning and discussions. And then I (yes I) tried to pull the plug. 

For reasons you either know or you don't, I was bummed. I was beyond bummed. I was stay-in-bed-all-morning, life-lamentingly depressed. Not even my mom could cheer me up, which is serious business. I did not want to go out for Halloween. I might have agreed to dress up for a dive bar with a medium-sized crowd where I could go unnoticed for most of the night. The Halloween committee was leaning toward a big party with a DJ and fog machines and flashing lights. The week before Halloween involved a lot of messages, first with me saying I didn't care where we went, then with me saying I would rather not go to a party at all. I know the messages were delivered. They were just not heeded. 

Friday: 
I received a text notification my ticket to a party at the W Hotel had been purchased. I offered to pay for it, but not actually go. I was told I actually would be going, and that flaking was not an option. I scoffed at the committee attempts to bully me. I mean I'm Danie. I don't get bullied. Usually.

Committee Member Jess (5 feet of intimidation) told me she and Committee Member Jason would be at my apartment Saturday at 6. There was a definite "you are hosting the pre-party" tone. I use every polite rejection I could muster. I told her I was not fun, that I did not want to go out. I told her I was just not in the mood. It was as if I hadn't said anything at all. She said she was bringing the booze and to make sure I had food. Halloween was happening, whether I liked it or not.
Saturday:
Committee Member Jason asked if two other people could come. And just like that, I was having a party. I did my part. I made my snacks. Jason et al did their part, arriving at 6. The trouble (and you could really hinge the night on this) came from Jess & the booze. They were late. And we just had to start drinking. 

Jason & Jess
You know what they say about liquor and beer. You know what they say about beer and liquor. You know what you don't know? Where wine fits on that scale. In waiting for Jess, we started going through what we had in my apartment. Prince William & Kate Middleton brought a bottle of wine. The pirate brought juice. I had vodka and bourbon. Seeing it typed out, there's no way the night was going to end well. But, well, you know what they say about hindsight.

What? You don't have shot glasses that light up? Lame.
Food! We ate, like responsible adults.
We went through the wine first. That made sense. Right? We ate nachos. As the only bourbon drinker, I drank (a half bottle of) that, while the pirate, the prince, and the princess drank (a half bottle of) vodka. We ate chicken. We ate spinach and cheese pillows. We laughed. Jess arrived, with a fresh bottle of the same (delicious) vodka. We took shots. Did I say we laughed? Because we did. We had fun. I told Jess she was right to bully me, and that I did need a good time. I relaxed. The night got away from us. To be clear, by "night," I mean 3 hours. From 6 to 9, we (we five, bold souls) went through a bottle of wine, a half bottle of Bulleit, and 1.5 bottles of Absolut SF. We were ready for outside, we thought. We were too smart to pay for overpriced drinks. We were going to dance the night away for the price of admission and nothing more. We went out to hail taxis. And here is where things start to get blurry. And queasy.