So this year's Christmas party was @ Harrah's Rincon Casino in Valley Center again. It's a nice place but way over priced and this year, we had to pay for our own drinks. What a joke! I'll pass on the free dinner if I can get free drinks out of the whole boring mess. At least that way I can deal with the phoney assholes with a smile on my face cause, well... I'm drunk!
I showed up with a great buzz after me and Z went to the gun show and drank some $8 Heinekin's. I was also working on my buzz with an empty stomach. After all these years of getting fucked up on an empty stomach I would think I might learn to get some food before I start drinking, but to no avail I said fuck it and kept drinking. Since the beers were $3 and the cocktails were the same price, I figgered I would just switch to Vodka/Cranberry. Things were going well, dinner was winding down, and people were starting to dance on the dance floor to some stupid ass Mexi music. Mesican music for a Christmas party? WTF??? Needless to say, I made my escape with no one even noticing, went back to my room, got out of my suit and tie, threw on my shorts and t-shirt and made my way down to the casino bar. I don't know how long I was in the bar before a few dudes from our party showed up and started ordering shots. At first, I was thinking I was already too smashed to throw down some shots, but when it's offered right in front of my face, I accepted. Big mistake!
The next thing I know I'm in the hallway of the hotel on the 6th floor and on the floor with three EMT dudes and a security guard looking down at me and asking if I was okay. I have no idea how long I was there, and no idea how I even got there. The EMT asked me what room I was staying in and I told him 467. He asked for my name and radio'd down to the front desk to verify that I told him the correct room. I asked him WTF the problem was and he said, "my problem is that I have a guest on the floor of the hotel fucked up and not even on the right floor." I asked him what floor I was on and he told me that I was on the 6th floor. Holy shit! How did I get here? He asked me if I needed any help getting to my room and I told him that I was fine. Needless to say, he followed me to my room and asked that I stay there for the rest of the night. I said, "no problem." and passed the fuck out.
I woke up at 11:30 yesterday morning, grabbed my shit and headed home. Man, I was really hung over and needing some water. I must've drank a gallon of water on the hour drive home. After I got home, I started unpacking my shit and realized that I left my $400 suit in my room. I called the lost and found and they said they had it, so I had to drive my another hour back up to the hotel, pick up my suit and then drive another hour back home, the whole time drinking loads of water. What a fucked up mission!
Well, today I get to work and the two dudes that I was partying with at the bar were laughing at me and asking me how I felt. I told them I felt fine and asked why they were asking. They both looked at me, "you don't remember fucking with the bartender at the bar Saturday night?" I said, "I was fucking with the bartender?"
Apparently after that shot of Patron I tried to order another beer, and the bartender told me that he couldn't serve my any more and he put a water up on the bar in front of me. Well, that just pissed me off and I started cussing the guy out and flipping him off calling him all kinds of names. He threatened to call security and I dared him as I pulled out my knife. One of the dudes I was with grabbed the knife from me and told the bartender that it was okay and that he would get me out of there. He took me around the corner and out of sight of the bartender, gave me my knife back and told me to go to my room or I was going to get arrested. He went back to the bar and I headed back to my room, except I guess I decided the 6th floor hallway would be much more comfortable than my bed on the 4th floor.
I guess I should be thankful that I didn't get arrested, robbed or my ass kicked, but what a fucked up night. This is one of those rare times when I didn't follow the rules of getting some base in the stomach before drinking like a fish. What a moron! I can only guess some of the other stories I'm going to hear in the next couple weeks about the stupid shit I did because I got drunk first!
Oh well, at least I didn't end up like this poor bastard...