Drink drink drink drink…
Surly Girl asked:
“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk?”
Mr Angry then asked:
“Who’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk”
Oh dear, my relationship with alcohol, put up for the world to see. I am fairly certain I’m not an alcoholic (despite an alcoholic father, a post for another day). I’ve had times of my lived tee totalled and dry. Stopping the drink is no hardship for me, but… having a drink is also very easy. There have been times in my life lived well and truly sozzled.
I suppose there is no uniqueness in drinking while I was at uni. Afterwards I went fairly sober, being in a new career made me all righteous and uptight. I drank, but not very much. Then life went off the rails (aaaanother post for another day), and though I still worked, I also lived in a fairly constant state of inebriation. I pulled myself back up, and dried up, met LL, and in trying for kids (and achieving kids) I went almost completely dry for a good number of years. Partially for health reasons (did you know alcohol is a major contributing factor to low sperm counts, not the only one mind, but one), partially in solidarity for LL who didn’t drink whilst pregnant or breast feeding. Now we drink again, but really only at the weekends (a bottle of wine can now disappear over diner).
When I’ve been in my heavy drink phases I’ve really hit the bottle. So the question of what’s the worst thing I’ve done while drunk is very easy. I’ve driven. I’ve never hurt anyone, thank god, but I’ve done it. When at university I used to ride a motorcycle, and remember more than a few unsteady rides late in the evening (or is that early in the morning).
That’s the serious answer, of course. There are many more foolish times. My first degree was in science, but I had a lot of friends doing engineering. It’s different in Canada, Engineering is a very proud profession. Here its associated with men in blue boiler suits and people sort of sneer at the title. Back home, engineers are a tight bunch, very full of themselves. Its starts at university where the students hang out in an unruly pack.
One of the rites of passage is the 40 beers club. You have 24 hours to drink 40 bottles of beer. No spillage allowed, though vomiting breaks are permitted. As I was considered an honorary engineer I was given the chance to perform. My memories of that 24 hours are more than a little hazy, though I have this badge on my varsity jacket (North Americans will understand that reference, I rowed) that says I did the task. I was hungover for days.
There are more than a few drunken dares in my past. I will choose discretion and leave out the more explicitly sexual ones for this post. However there was the drunken bungy jump in New Zealand that stands out, closely followed by the naked horse ride through a suburb of Calgary (that hurt). Are those the worst things, or just stupid?
As to the question of who, that’s a tricky question. I have had a few episodes where I have had enough alcohol for my memory to be impaired. I only need one handful of fingers to count the nights in question, but that’s enough. On two of those I awoke the next day to find evidence to be sure I’d had sex with a female (won’t go into the details, but there was enough for me to know). For one of those I have vague memories of drunken snogs with a fairly attractive brunette (beer bottle goggles not withstanding). I don’t remember much after that, but will assume any bedroom athletics (or likely alley way athletics in this case) were with her.
On the other occasion I have absolutely no memory of the evening before, in particular no memory of any females. She, whoever she may be, will remain a mystery in my life. A forever unknown lover that I shall just have to rely on fantasy to assure myself of perfect prowess…