eye's hindsight vol 4

so today's tale begins during the first year after i graduated high school. i was attending a local community college, and had a couple of friends with whom i would occasionally hang out outside of school. best of all, one was old enough to buy booze.

it was decided that a party was going to be held at one group of friend's houses (parents out of town, of course), and i, feeling rich at the time (living at home, no girlfriend, no real hobby or life to speak of), decided that i would fund the boozification of the party, provided my of-age friend would do the actual purchasing. $125 later, we had a lot of damn booze.

that evening, when the party began, i decided for myself that i would remain relatively sober for as much of the evening as i could, since i was essentially hosting it. also, having not done too much drinking, i was a "two beer queer", and sorta knew it. i didn't want to get loaded before the party really got rolling.

people started coming around, the party started switching gears in an upward fashion. i fended off the couple of people (looking back, it was rather few... rude...) who tried to offer me money for having funded it. nope, i wouldn't have it. i paid for it, now go drink to your heart's content.

i was slowly enjoying a jack daniels and coke (about half and half... probably a bit stronger than i needed, but... eh), and discussing the plethora of hard alcohol that sat in the freezer. i had never had goldschlager before, i'd never even heard of it. but i was intrigued by the idea of drinking flecks of gold...

we had a big ol' bottle of it.

it was recommended that i try it. i said "ok, who wants to do a shot?" i had a taker or two (don't really remember who though), and a shot was done. it was delicious! tasted like cinnamon gold! and it warmed my body like the heat of such cinnamonny golden suns! and left me smiling a cinnamonny golden smile.

as i put it back into the freezer, another partier said "what is that?" to which i responded "it's goldschlager! it's awesome! want a shot?" they said "sure." i said "i'll do one with you!"

the magical elixer of metallic spice was just as good the second time around!

before i could even put the cap back on, somebody else said "what's that floating in there?" to which i responded "it's flakes of real gold!" and they said "do you swallow it?" i said "yea, you hardly even notice! want to do a shot?" "sure." "i'll do one with you!"

cinnamon fairies criss-crossed over my head, sprinkling golden flakes of wondrous warmth down upon my head!

the same thing happened a few more times. i don't really remember how many shots i had, but i believe it was around 9. in about 20 minutes. i sat back down and continued to drink my jack and coke...

and eveything after that comes in flashes.

i remember stumbling around making sure everybody had a drink.

i remember saying "woah i'm way to drunk..." at least a dozen times.

i remember cold bones and another friend arriving, and seeing as the two of them were not what i would have called party people at the time, i remember them looking rather uncomfortable. i don't think they stayed long.

i remember people saying the cops were at the door, and i tried to hide. in the basement. sitting on a chair. with the lights out. (i was told later that i hid for approximately two hours or so... finishing my jack and coke).

i remember finding out that it wasn't the cops, but rather a friend who was a 911 operator, who happened to have a uniform that was very cop-like that showed up for the party after work.

i remember laying on a couch.

i remember laying on a different couch.

i remember laying in the opposite direction on the same couch (for some reason).

i remember being "helped" into a bedroom.

i remember the light was on, and there were a bunch of people hanging out in there, and they continued to as i passed out.

i remember great pain in my head the next morning. and greater disappointment in finding that of the $125 or so of booze, about $8 was left.

since then, goldschlagger and me, we aren't as good of friends as we could have been.

sometimes i miss those cinnamon fairies and their golden dust of cozy warmth, but then i always remember the booze demons that took turns spearing me in the head with their pitch forks the next morning.