30 years later, still boozin' it up together

I just spent the most wonderful night with my old best friend from high school. Jamie and I were best buddies during the years we were at Darlington together. Last night we couldn't remember exactly how long that was, but I think he came our junior year, which would make it two fabulous years of best friend-dom. In any case, we lost touch with each other after graduation but reconnected after our last high school reunion. He wasn't able to attend, but sent in his email address and we've been communicating that way for years.


Jamie and his fabulous wife, Laura, live in southern California, though he is originally from Albany, Georgia and she's originally from Virginia. They were passing through Atlanta on their way from Cali to Albany where Jamie's mom was celebrating her birthday. They spent the night here so we could get together. I told them they simply must move back. They are like my new best friends.


When I got to their hotel Laura and Jamie had been drinking for a while and they promptly ordered me a Cosmo (note pinkish monster in front of me.) Jamie was feeling very generous, and before one glass was completely empty, there would be another round placed before us. After two rounds, Jamie informed me that he was going to be putting me in a cab cause he wasn't letting me drive. I happily agreed. After six Cosmos...yes, I said six...we went outside to have another ciggie. I barely made it to the smoking area when I realized I was far, far too drunk. I sat down and Jamie sat next to me and I was suddenly aware that I couldn't sit upright anymore. I laid my head in his lap, not caring that there were other people in the smoking area of the hotel (read strangers) who were watching me. I figured taking a nap in front of them was better than passing out or throwing up, my two other options.


In a minute Laura said "Jules, you're coming up to our room" and we started walking towards the elevator. I honest to God thought "I'm gonna have to sit down here in the lobby for a few minutes" cause I didn't think I would make it. I barely did. We got to the room and I fell on their spare bed and halfway passed out. Then the other half of me decided it was time to throw up. I fought it back, thanks to the cold bottle of water Jamie placed in my arms which I held against my neck to calm down the nausea. Then I passed out for real. I woke up at 6:30, still in my friggin' contacts, and even though I tried to convince myself I was in my own bed, I finally accepted that I was not, and that I was indeed going to have to get up and go find my car and drive home. So I did. Quel night.

I guess the motto of this story is no matter how young you feel, you're really 47 years old, way too old for that much alcohol. Cause brother, I'm paying for it today. But it was all worth it.