|May 09, 2003 - Texas Mickey Party|
Talk about one massive drunk gong show - I attended my first ever 'Texas Mickey' party last night (yeah, a thursday) - what crazy time that was. This party
was to celebrate the end of the regular season hockey draft - and consisted of 7 other guys from work, and myself.
Let me try and walk through some of the more entertaining happenings...read this if you have time, its pretty entertaining
Everyone shows up to the party, we throw some steaks on the BBQ and crack open the TM (Crown Royal). Darrin (the host) pours glasses for all
8 of us - each glass is 1/3 to 1/2 rye with just a bit of coke for color. Personally, this is not how I am used to drinking rye. Add to this the rule that nobody is
allowed to pour another drink until EVERYONE is finished theirs. So basically one person finishes their drink, and the rest of the people chug theirs so that you
don't slow down the rest of the party. 2 hours = 1 empty texas mickey (3 drinks for each person - those were STIFF drinks). So then an extra 40 gets cracked and theirs
more whiskey floating around, people are drinking it like water now (myself included) because we're so drunk we can't tell the difference.
After a few hours of drunk foosball, drunk darts, drunk keyboard playing and half-ass watching the Canucks get worked Darrin announces that his wife will
be home shortly and we have to get out. Scott, the only one not drinking, storms out of the place pissed off because his team lost and the rest of us are basically
being abnoxious morons to him (ie. punching him and tripping him everywhere he goes). After what must have been a half hour of trying to find jackets and shoes, we're all
on the front lawn (except me and Darrin who are on my car roof). Each one of us is also completely pissed and the rest of the night (as I know it) has been pieced together
from what each of us could remember seperately.
As we're standing around trying to come up with a way to get to Whiskey Jacks because Scott was our ride (Darrin lives in East College park, east of boychuk) - I tell
everyone that the key is in the ignition of my car. I then remembered that Scott wasn't around, and none of us were in any condition to drive - but before I could
even think about this Neil, Darrin and Arron are driving off in my car with one door open and all over the road. This aint good - on the upside this was my Monaco and
I couldn't care less what happens to the car - on the downside it is totally not cool that these farm boys are driving around this corked in a big car. Anyhow, they were gone.
The rest of us - Dave, myself, Colin, Rat and Chris attempt to walk to Whiskey Jacks - except Rat and Dave go the right way, and Chris, Colin and myself
head north for some reason. Once we hit the highway we walked through somebody's fence and headed down the alley to McKercher - but we lost Colin somehow.
Colin had been riding beside us on his bike but he suddenly dissapeared with no trace. Chris and myself proceeded to find McKercher and walk all the way to
As we approach Whiskey Jacks I see my Monaco parked across two stalls diagnally with the ass-end blocking traffic, and Aaron, Neil and Darrin are inside trying to convince
the bouncer that they really aren't too drunk to come in. Needless to say, they turned us ALL away on account of us being too drunk. At this point still no sign of Dave, Rat or Colin (the one
with the bike). We go to JTs instead (next door) and walk right in and sit down.
Aaron pulls the 40 out of his jacket and plops it down on the table...I thought this would be a problem but the waitress thought it was quite funny. We all order beers (which
is odd for me - I hate beer. I think I had a Canadian, the farm boys had Pill). What REALLY surprised me is that throughout the night various bar hoochies came and sat down
at our table and hit on us. This is not something I am used to at bars at all, and I really have no idea why in hell these girls would be interested in us dirty (literally, we fell in the alley a lot),
slurring drunks but they did. They kept saying something about wanting to work at the city as data entry clerks?!?
Darrin decides he's "getting the fuck out of here" after a lengthy discussion about how much he weighs and how other guys are intimidated by him (he's a big boy) - I follow him out, leaving Chris and Neil to continue flirting with the bar hoochies who have slowly taken over
our table. I walk all the way home (which was quite the walk)...last I heard Neil was calling a cab and Darrin had walked home. I think Chris went home with one of the bar
hoochies which is his regular routine. Still no sign of Rat, Dave or Colin.
Woke up in bed...good I made it home. Not hung over either, I think I'm still a little drunk. Time to go to work! I seem to now own a nice pair of
Caterpiller shoes with no shoe laces - my heels hurt like hell and I have the key to the Monaco in my pocket, but the Monaco is nowhere to be seen. Which
makes sense because I vaguely remember the long walk home. I come to work and Colin is nowhere to be found, in fact he didn't even call in sick. I'd have to wait
until 1:00 before I'd hear from him again. Rat is here and doesn't remember a whole lot - except that Dave and him had walked to Whiskey Jacks and when they couldn't
get in Rat walked back to Darrin's to get his bike and Dave took off to 'walk' home (he lives across the river - he would never make it).
To make a long story a little bit shorter - Dave made it about as far as Acadia at which point he saw the Great Canadian Oil Change and freaked out
because he thought he was on 22nd street. He then figured it would be a good idea to stand on 8th street and try to wave down cars to give him a ride
home - unfortunately one of them was a cop who arrested him and through him in the drunk tank. With my shoes!!
Colin has the most interesting story of all. His mind is almost a complete blank between 10:30 and 2:00AM when he remembers bringing his bike inside
and going to bed. Only problem is that it's not his bike. His brand new mountain bike has somehow transformed into a 70s style rusty 10 speed bike with
curled handle bars. As near as he can remember, he got lost trying to find his way back to Darrin's - and ended up at somebody else's house (which he thought was Darrin's). His
idea was to get his backpack out of the garage, so he put down his bike and proceeded to try and get in as the owner of the house was screaming out
her window at him. He assumed this was Darrin's wife and thought nothing of it. He figures after spending a fair amount of time in the backyard trying to think of a way
to get into the garage, and stopping to piss on the lawn, he found this shitty bike and jumped on it. Pretty good trade for them.
He also remembers stopping by an apartment thinking it was his girlfriend's apartment (even though she lives in Regina). He buzzed the buzzer until somebody
finally answered, and then still not convinced he proceeds to camp outside the apartment window for a long time yelling for his girlfriend until some old man in a robe
shows up and tells him to fuck off. Aside from that, he remembers nothing and really wants to know where his bike is. He also figures he must have taken a few spills as
he's covered in bruises, had a big cut on his chin and a very messed up blue toenail.
I found my car still parked at Whiskey Jacks today with a mickey of crown royal, 2 Litres of coke and a set of keys on the front seat. It's also completely out of gas.
And thats it (so far). I still haven't talked to Scott, Neil, Arron or Darrin so we'll see if they can add to this already quite hilarious night. I can't say I'm overly impressed
with the fact that somebody was driving my car while hammered out of their tree like that, but other than that there was no harm done. Well, other than a lost bike
I guess. And I somehow woke up without a hangover, so hey. As JayB would say: Good times, good times.
So this is what happens when you drink like a farm boy!
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