The best stories are the ones you don't remember.

[Kitsune]

It was five, maybe six pints of beer, consumed so quickly it was later described as "rapid fire". And since it was a British-style pub, the beer wasn't nearly as cold as it should have been. Dammit, I really hate that. But who can say anything in protest when you're with good friends and you have reserved an entire night away for nothing but drinking? Even an awful plate of chips and gravy (guiness gravy!) proved enjoyable despite the smell. At some point during all of this, the dim light of the bar got hazy and I decided to take a little nap.

Usually, in this situation, one would expect to wake with a missing wallet or drawings on the face done with a sharpie, but my friends weren't so cruel and were busy arguing about tanks and mechanized canons. (Was I dreaming?) How nice of them not to disturb my slumber -- I only woke up because I was in a cold sweat and my mouth was watering. And my stomach was making really bizarre and unhappy noises.

Uh-oh.

The bathroom? I glanced at it briefly but knew better than to attempt it. Pushing your way through a long line of drunken patrons is never a good idea. I elected to bolt from the table and rush out the door to lean against an oak so tall and mighty that it could only have grown so strong with the help of generations of fertilizing vomit. But there would be no contribution from me, tonight, because God never lets me throw up when intoxicated -- I always have to "ride it out" and endure spinning rooms and stumbling steps for hours. (Hey, kids! Drinking is lots of fun!) Deep in my belly, Newcastle Ale and gravy-covered french fries were fighting out a monumentous battle with the help of room-temperature carbonation. I regained my composure and made my way back inside Fox and Hounds.

What happened next was considered, by my friends, to be "the sexiest thing Kitsune has ever done". A woman, dressed in a red vest, was attempting to exit as I was trying to enter. I bumped into her and, being the polite guy I am, opened my mouth to excuse myself. The only problem is that when you're drunk, the words just never come out right. In fact, all that did come out was an unexpected, uncontrollable belch so foul that the poor woman visibly wretched and took several steps backwards -- then nearly fell over as she hit a step! Boy, did my stomach feel worlds better! But she didn't, and was now pale as she rushed past me, headed for the same tree I had just visited...

I'm sure the best stories from alcohol adventures are the ones you never remember, but I'm sharing this one with you because, um... I'm not sure. But there it is. It is, by far, not as good as one in which an elderly woman attempted to get into a physical fight with me at another bar thanks to a heated debate concerning the Atkins diet. Eating nothing but meat sure does make people irritable! But that is for another time...

Good times.