I’ve been known to ruin New Years Eve for my best friend. Two years in a row I completely trainwrecked his night as a matter of fact. One year I was so drunk he had to drag me from the party and through the streets of Philadelphia to our hotel room. As people passed us on the streets I wished herpes on them as I mumbled other derogatory phrases.
He carried me to our hotel room, put me in bed and went back to the party. When the rest of my friends returned to the hotel later that night the stench emanating from the room hit them like a truck. I had thrown up all over the ground and inside of one of my friends brand new pair of shoes. The picture he posted of his shoes on Myspace became something of legend among my friends. I wish I still had it.
The room was ruined. No one could bear the stench. Except for the guy who’s shoes I threw up in, he braved the night in the disgusting room. Luckily for the rest of us, one of my friends was sober and drove us home.
The next morning I woke up on my friend’s floor. I was miserably hung over and smelled terrible. I wasn’t sure what the smell was until I went to the bathroom. I had shit myself. Not a lot, but more than a shart.
But that’s not the night I want to discuss. That was a drop in the bucket compared to the previous year. This also took place in Philadelphia. A group of us went to a to bar with an all-you-can-drink special. Needless to say I got horrendously drunk and made poor choices.
The bar had port-o-potty’s set up outside for men. All of the bathrooms inside were only available for women that night. The overflow of women waiting for a bathroom spilled outside to the port-o-potty’s.
Towards the end of the night I was in line waiting to take a piss. A rather plump girl was ahead of me. We made small talk for a couple of minutes. When it was her turn to enter the port-o-potty she turned and kissed me. (more…)