That's a Hell of a Ride

So this is an old story that I recently found in my emails to a friend Chris. Since I have failed to update this recently due to having multiple jobs and even more blackouts, I thought I would post this story to demonstrate how retarded I can really be.

I'm from a town in Georgia and for the Memorial Day holiday I decided to go home and visit. So I got into town on Thursday am. Hung out with my mom and sister for a bit (aka played tennis and drank beer which I know you can appreciate). At 6 my best friend picked me up and we headed to my college town. Get there and start getting ready to go out. Well the friend we will be staying with is going to be bartending that night at Allgood so she's drinking some rum, club soda and lime juice before her shift and we decide to join her. I drive us downtown around 9:15 since somehow I'm the most sober(some people just can't hold their liquor). Now I think the original plan was going to be to Bar Hop but I apparently decided if the drinks were free why bother leaving my two favorite bars? First I hit up some new bar to visit the hottest bartender alive (Female mind you and I would totally go lesbian for her). She makes us a few shots and then we head over to the bar my former neighbor co-owns. I walk in to several people waiting on me and the night begins. I think total I had maybe 7 drinks over the course of the night. I pretty much stuck to shots. Including my least fave-Goldschlagger. I wanted to vomit right then but I didnt.More people start showing up and the owners of the bar (who are close friends of mine) couldn't be happier with all the rounds of shots we are buying. A former sorority sister of mine decides to buy the newest shot on the chalkboard.I don't know if you know what it is but it's called The Motorboat. Basically,the owner or bartender of your choice (or in this case my friend's choice) sits you on a bench, straddles you, tips your head back, and pours liquor out of a bottle into your mouth while he literally motorboats you. It was out of control. At about 12:15 I decide it's time to head to the bar I pretty much lived in junior and senior years of college. I have no memory of being there. Thank God for the pictures. I think I went on a kissing spree-planting one on anyone who was fortunate enough to pass by me. And I know we did more rounds of shots. Apparently, around 2 am I told everyone I had to use the bathroom. Which I am pretty sure I did before blacking out completely.

I woke up at 2:45 am to a bright light in my eyes and somebody shaking me. Evidently, I tried to walk to my old apartment (something I had even mentioned to everyone would probably happen). But I didn't quite make it. I passed out in front of my old dorm from freshman year which is about 2/3 of the way there. The cops found me passed out half on the sidewalk and half in the cross walk leading to another co-ed dorm. The female cop wanted to arrest me for drunk and disorderly. The male cop argued that I wasn't disorderly, I was "pleasant". They offered me a ride home to which I apparently retorted, "Wow, you are going to drive me all theway to NJ? That's a long ride in the back of a cop car." To which, he laughed and she ran a check on me. Which came back with nothing because I'm an idiot who thus far has managed to avoid getting busted. Finally, obviously annoyed beyond belief by my inability to answer a question and her partner's reluctance to do anything about me, she grabs my cellphone and calls the last number that called me and hands the phone back to me. My friend answers and asks where the fuck I am and I respond with, "You might want to talk to the officers I'm sitting with."

My sober friend picks me up. Now this is another part that is fuzzy. Rumor has it I went to his apt and crashed on his couch for 2 hours before the bartender friend picked us up. At 7 am I woke up in a bed next to my best friend with my camera and my phone next to me. I can't find my purse.My fucking coach purse. My fucking $200 coach purse that was a Christmas present from my aunt. With my Amex, my debit card, my lip gloss, and $12 in it. Not to mention MY ID. Which, hey, is kind of important as I CAN'T GET ON A FUCKING PLANE WITHOUT IT!Thus begins my second encounter with the cops. I wont bore you with those details but suffice to say, my best friend and I go retracing the route I probably walked to the dorms, we call to file a police report, and then head to the DMV to get a new ID. Which I was denied. Oh and cancelling my credit cards was loads of fun. All before 9 am. So my best friend drives me back to Snellville where I call my mom crying. We finally talk to TSA who tell me I can drive to the airport with someone who has a valid ID. That person will vouch for me, they will draft an affadavit saying my purse was stolen, take my picture and notorize it. It has to be done on Friday or else I can't fly home on Monday. As we are heading to the airport, my phone rings. The Bank of America in my college town is calling to tell me SOMEONE TURNED IN MY PURSE. So now my mom has to turn around and drive me an hour to get the damn thing.Yeah, that's right, luck of the Irish. Everything was in it- all the cards, the lipgloss, the cash and the ID.The best part about it? Not one of my friends is pissed at all. The Friday after this, was my best friend's birthday and she spent the first two hours driving my still drunk ass around looking for my purse, talking with cops and sitting in a DMV and she thinks the whole thing was hysterical. The guy who picked me up before the cops could change their minds and arrest me called me to tell me to give him the heads up for the night I move home- he'd like to organize another crazy night with me. I'm not sure my purse can take another night of this. My mom and dad weren't pissed at all- they just told me they thought after getting two degrees that I was smart enough to know you only went to bars with your ID and cash in your pocket. All in all everyone was pretty cool.I guess I learned my lesson. For now. I give it a week before I fuck it up somehow.