>>> Up Shit Creek
By staff writer Michael Curtiss
January 31, 2007

Last summer, I was back home in Texas for a little break. And my friends, I drank. I drank heavily and indiscriminately. I drank without concern for my own health or for the general well-being of others. And I really enjoyed it for a while. No work and all play. Then one day, I took things a little too far. I’m not drinking as much these days.

My roommate is from Texas as well. We went to elementary, middle, and high school together and moved out to Florida to attend college. We were back visiting home together and his parents had recently purchased a lake house with a pool. Turns out, they aren’t living at this place full-time; they just go there on the weekends. We planned for a few of us to spend the week there unsupervised, with a boat, and a whole shitload of beer. Sounds good to me.

On a Tuesday, we loaded up the car and headed out to the lake. This place was only about an hour away from my parent’s house in Dallas, so the drive wasn’t really that big of a deal. We arrived there around noon with a fresh case and smiles on our faces. We went out on the boat for a few hours and dicked around and drank some beers. We came back to the house, got in the pool, and dicked around and drank some beers. We went out to eat, dicked around and— you get the fucking point.

“I didn’t know where the fuck I was. I didn’t know what city I was in. I was scared.”

Nothing really out of the ordinary happened that first day. We had some good times and all passed out happily filled with beer. We got up at around 11:00 the next morning and took the boat out again. I tried to wakeboard and ended up knocking the shit out of my balls. That felt kinda awesome.

We returned to the house around 2:30 and went to buy more beer. We did some quick math to figure out how many we needed. “Okay, so there are 4 of us, and we need enough beer to satisfy all of our thirsts. 90 beers should do the trick.” Think about that for a minute… 90 beers for 4 people. That’s right around 22 beers per person. Something bad will probably happen.

We got back to the house with three 30-cases of Keystone and let the good times roll. We all jumped into the pool and started doing beer bongs. Somebody had the genius idea to take a beer bong while fully submerged. This isn’t as easy as it sounds. First, you have to keep your mouth wrapped tight enough around the tube so water doesn’t rush in, then you have to make sure it doesn’t go in your nose, all the while sucking down an ice cold beverage. This is where we separated the men from the boys. We were all men except for my friend Nick. Grow some balls buddy.

It was around 7 o’clock, and we had been drinking for a good 4 hours and were about a third done with the beer. We got out of the pool, and went inside to play some beer pong. And let me tell you this, I played the absolute best beer pong game in my entire life. My performance was worthy enough for a story unto itself. My partner was too drunk to play, so I played against my two other friends. The game went into five overtimes, and I finally pulled out the big W. I was on top of the world. Then… everything went blank.

I came to in a very unfamiliar setting. The place smelled like dead skin and potpourri. I was sitting on a plastic-covered floral patterned couch. I didn’t know where the fuck I was. I didn’t know what city I was in. I was scared.

Suddenly, an elderly woman came walking around the corner. She smiled at me and walked into the kitchen. I froze, unable to speak. Am I a ghost? Can she see me? Is she wearing a wig?

Old lady: Would you like another glass of water?
Me: Huh?
Old lady: Would you like some more water dear?

I looked down and sure enough there was a completely drained glass of water on the table in front of me. How long had I been here?

Me: Um, this may sound weird, but how long have I been in your house?
Old lady: Oh, about 45 minutes.
Me: Oh, thanks.

I broke a sweat when she said this. What had we been talking about for that long? Did she put a roofie in my water and have sex with me? God I hope not, her titties looked like two eggs hanging on a nail.

Alcohol has a way of erasing memory if consumed in mass quantities. And I had most definitely been consuming it in mass quantities. But here’s the thing: I had no clue I was drunk. I didn’t know that I was at my friend’s lake house. I had absolutely no recollection of taking this trip. As far as I was concerned, I was back home in Dallas and hadn’t had a beer all day. But I knew one thing: I had to find out how to get back home.

I started asking the lady if she knew where certain landmarks were, back where my parents lived. I named probably 10 different places local to my hometown. She didn’t know where anything was. It didn’t even occur to me that I could be in a completely different town, so I didn’t even ask what city I was in.

I sat there in silence for a few minutes. This place seemed surreal; everything looked cloudy and felt like a dream. I tried to figure out what to do next. I guess this made the lady nervous, so she blurted out, “You look a little red; did you go out on the lake today?”

Holy fucking dick-sucking Christmas. Her words were like a catalyst for all my memories of the two prior days. Everything flooded back into my head and I suddenly realized where I was. Well… sort of. I knew what city I was in, but I had no clue where my roommate’s house was in relation to this old skank’s place.

I thanked her for her hospitality and raced out of the house. I walked out the front door, looked to the left, and saw the house. A wave of relief and safety washed over my body as I approached the house. I walked inside and my friends freaked. They had all been looking for me for the past hour, thinking I fell into the lake or something.

I explained to them what happened, and they lost it. I mean, who does shit like this? What is wrong with me?

My roommate went on to explain that the old lady neighbor was about as crazy as, in his words, “a rat in a tin shit house.” That is probably why I’m not in jail right now. I’m assuming I went outside for one reason or another, got confused, and walked into this old lady’s house. Then, she either drugged me and had her way with me, or sat me down to talk. Either way, at least she didn’t call the cops.

We all went on to drink into the wee hours of the morning, finishing all 90 beers. I puked all over the kitchen counters and pissed in my roommate’s parent’s bathroom sink, blaming both occurrences on Nick. Learn to take a beer bong under water and this shit won’t happen.

Needless to say, I woke up the next morning with the worst hangover of my entire life. I vowed to never drink again. I was really serious about it this time too. No more beer, ever. But see, the thing is, I got drunk the next night and forgot about my vow to never drink again. What can you do?

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