Drinking Stories

Well then... due to the confined space of the chatbox, where this conversation started, I decided to post a thread!


Anywho, my one and only bar fight! In a small town called Oro Grande, CA, There is one restaurant, which is where I worked. There is also 2 large cement plants, and they change people more than most people change underwear! Most are from Texas, and you would be surprised at how nice they are compared to us California folk. Anyways, one of them decided to buy me a few drinks, being as we were getting close to closing. I had just put down my third one, when I noticed some trouble starting up. We had a Digital Jukebox, and you could play just about any damn song you could think of. So, a country song comes on, because them Texas guys love thier country, and one of the other patrons decides to pull the Texans' hat off. He feels its just a joke and goes to get it back, but the other guy starts getting offensive. Starts takling shit and getting in his face and what not. So my bouncer, who is a good buddy of mine, goes over to break it up. The drunk guy starts trying to get in his face, and starts banging his set. My bouncer tells him that shit doesn't fly in here, and the dude's hands flew up to grab my bouncer. By this time I come over to observe and make sure shit doesn't get out of hand, but I saw his hands just barely start to move, and my arm was around his neck. Not in a normal choke hold mind you. Don't know where my brother learned it, but something about it being military style. It's where you have your hand on the back of thier neck, pushing against your forearm, with your other hand on the inside of your elbow. Next thing I know, his homie is trying to get me in a head lock. I easily slip out, and push the first dude off to the side, and my bouncer grabs him, and chokes him out like... literally 5 seconds and he was out on the floor. So, as I push the other dude off me, I square up, and he starts trying to defend himself and his homie, saying the Texan started it. The Texan is a regular, and he has gotten really drunk before, but he has never been agressive. So anyways, it ended up spilling into the parking lot, and they ended up leaving. They apologized the next day, so it was all good.




Not only is that my ONLY bar fight... it's my ONLY fight outside of my family... and I know it wasn't really a fight...

Now let's hear yours!

Damn dude, I'm glad you didn't get hurt. Some people can be real heartless motherfuckers, regardless of alcohol. Fuel that with booze, and you have blood and obituaries just waiting.

Anyways, last fall I had this little fight with a dumb jock. It was last November. Now, I'm usually the complete hippie at the party. Naturally, I arrive around 11:00 PM, after getting completely ripped after work. I pay my five bucks, and get a nice miller light beer poured. It's a great party, I'm really hitting it off with this girl and just chilling with my friends. After about six more beers I'm feeling pretty good, and just chilling with my clique. All of a sudden this big jock comes up and pokes me in the shoulder. Now, I'm only 6'0 and 150 at the time, and he was about 6'3", prolly 200. "What's up man?" "You soccer fairy fag, why are you wearing that disgraceful shit around here?" I was wearing a Manchester United David Beckham Jersey. "Dude, relax, it's a party. You go have fun with your friends, and I'll have fun with mine". He drops his drink, full on shoves me in the chest and I drop my drink on the girl I'm chilling with. "Dude, you don't want to do this." He shoves me again "Fucking pussy." He lights a cigarello, and then proceeds to promptly put it out on my shirt. Not two seconds later I drew back and hit him as hard as I could square on the nose. Plop, he falls to the floor. "FUCK!" My hand heart so much, I thought I had broke it. He got up again, and left. His buddies just kind of left muttering fuck you's and what not. "Don't talk shit if you can't back it up, fag!" I yelled as he left.

That shit pissed me off. That jersey cost me 70 bucks, and it basically got ruined by some jerk who hates soccer. Luckily the girl understood that I involantarily spilled my drink. I had later fall-outs with that same jock, but none like this. He knew not to fuck with me, even though I'm a small guy. That just put me over the edge though. Fucking college.

I have so many..

I am an alcoholic. (If you consider drinking every weekend a bad thing)

I chugged half a gallon of water once at football practice. Omg I'm such a crazy person.

I pretty much have 2 or so beers every DAY. The weekends, now those are a lot more intense. Can't eat without a brew-ha!

You must be kidding, Titus! YOUR LIVER WILL NEVER WITHSTAND THAT BARRAGE OF PAIN!

A few years ago, probably when I was about 16 or so, me and 2 other good friends got completely smashed and decided to go meet someone to smoke down. I was the oldest person among us, and being 16 I still didn't have a driver's license.

Anyway, we decide to steal my dad's van to drive to this kid's house. We call him and he says to wait at Taco Bell for a couple minutes so he can meet us there and follow him. Well I get to Taco Bell and parked at the back close to a tall wooden fence. Randomly the youngest friend (15 at the time) asked if he could drive. For whatever stupid reason I decided to be generous and grant him driving permissions. Our smoking friend calls me and says to pull out of Taco Bell because he was about to pass it.

So my friend puts it in gear, and stomps on the gas.

3 Problems:

1. The Drive Through line of people was directly behind us.
2. There was a huge wooden fence in front of us.
3. He didn't put the van into reverse, he put it into drive.


SO - We run straight into the wooden fence, knocking a large portion over, and stopped directly on top of it. (The whole drive through line was staring at us, mind you.) So then me and my other friend start yelling "GO! GO! GO!" and we drive through another company's grass and then finally onto a road.

---------------------

We never got caught or anything, which is definitely good. And we went to Taco Bell the next day in a different vehicle, and saw some people re-building the fence. All of us couldn't help but chuckle.

You must be kidding, Titus! YOUR LIVER WILL NEVER WITHSTAND THAT BARRAGE OF PAIN!

I have a friend that does it and hes fine but later him and titus will be in pain for sure.

I was being sarcastic. My dad used to drink 2 cases of beer a day. Alcoholism at its finest.

How is he now?

October 2006...I get my nice Columbia coat stolen.

It's a great party. Literally 4 blocks from my house, down town. I was just chilling in school one day, and my friend Laura tells me she has a bottle of liquor that she doesn't like. It happens to be Jim Beam Whiskey, which I have never had. So, after school, my best bud Jake (Arkantis) procures the bottle. I have to work 5-9 at Hardees that night, so I was a tad late to the party. Anyways, after I had showered and was presentable to the party, I show up a tiny bit before 11. It's a chill party, everyone's dancing, sharing pricelss moments. I meet up with Jake and his cousin, and we do four odd shots. I'm feeling good, and then someone offers a vsop shot to me. Of course I can't turn it down. I'm feeling really good, and the apartment had finally heated up, so I put my jacket on a nice couch. Bad idea, this sucker cost me 200 bucks, on sale. It was so warm. Anyways, Jake and I started to down the rest of the Liter of Jim Beam, much to our dismay. Next thing I know, I am lunging into the bathroom, my vomit finding the toilet. Not two minutes later Jake sprawls into the bathroom, puking his guts out. Something must have been wrong with the Jim Beam. After 'chilling' out and puking our guts out, the host gives each of us a pillow and blanket, and shows us into Monica's room. He says to pass out anywhere, just 'don't make a mess'. So I go to the far corner and do so, my best bud stays near the door. I should've retrieved my coat.

Next morning, the host , Jeff's dad comes around 10AM to pick him up. He was going on some sort of family vacation, so we had to leave. I look around everywhere, and can't find my coat. It was October, and quite cold out, so I was really pissed. Jake gave me his light jacket, and we made it to the Ulmer Cafe for breakfast. I'm just so apalled that my coat got stolen; I can't even enjoy the morning after meal. As we part ways, I promise to give my friend his jacket back. Keep in mind I was only 16, so explaining to my rents that I needed a new coat didn't go down so well. A few months later I saw it in the back of a car, but he pulled away too quickly. Shady fuckers suck, and Jim Bean should never be consumed.

Sounds to me like that's your fault. Getting drunk and leaving your personal items unattended usually doesn't pan out.

Drinking stories, eh? Alright, here goes:

This was a couple of years ago, I'd say in '05 so I was about 17-18 at the time. My buddy's mom is a big stoner and she's really cool with all of us. So, one week one of her friends goes out of town and she says we can go over there to party if we can't find anywhere else. Sure, why not. So the 8 of us decide to go over there. We're not planning on throwing a party, per se, we're just gonna chill and drink. We don't want to trash a house that's not ours so we don't invite anybody over there except for the people my buddy's mom said was cool to go there.

So this is going pretty good. We've got about 2 cases of budweiser between the 8 of us and at that time, I didn't like beer so I'd be smashed off of like 4. About an hour and a half into it, somebody knocks on the door. We're all like WTF do we do.. this isn't our house. My friend Ted (the dude with the cool mom) decides to answer the door. It's some guy that is friends with the house-owners and he's looking for them. At this point in time we're all semi-drunk so our answers range from the following:
- "I've owned this house for several years, how dare you question my integrity."
- "Get the fuck out of here!"
- "They're not here so we're partying in their absence."
- "FUCK YOU YOU PIECE OF SHIT QUIT PESTERING US."

As you can see, these are horrible responses to the situation at hand.

I have like 9 beers and proceed to go into the bathroom because I am FUBAR. Seriously, 9 beers to me at this time got me SMASHED. So I go into the bathroom to puke and I end up passing out on the floor. While laying there for an hour, the first thing I see when I open my eyes is a cop standing over me.

Apparently this is what happened: the guy that came to the door called the cops on us. When the cops arrived they were staking out the place, and one of my friends was pissing in the front yard. Cop sees this, which gives him ample reason to come in the house and start fucking shit up.

Back to the cop standing over me: I am promptly put in handcuffs no questions asked. He takes me out into the dining room and starts searching me. As I'm handcuffed being searched, all of my friends are sitting on the couches watching the drunkest person there get handcuffed and searched. I look to them and mouth a "What the fuck!?" And guess what!!? I have a pipe and about an 8th in my pocket. Fucking fantastic. After he takes the weed he tells me to go sit on the couches with the rest of my friends. After sitting there for about 1.5 minutes, I realize I have to puke again. I go to the screen door that is in the living and am begging the cop to open it for me because I'm about to vomit everywhere. So he lets me go out there. Looking back on it, it's so surreal. I am in this random backyard, handcuffed, puking my brains out.

To end this story, none of us got in trouble. They made me flush my weed down the toilet, we had to dump the beers, break the bong we had, and call our parents to come pick us up. Come to find out, when my friends saw me starting to get searched they stuffed their weed in the couch coushins. They had time to prepare. I didn't.

Summary: The drunkest person there got handcuffed and fucked with for no apparent reason. Yay for underage drinking!

Did my story kill this thread?

.....did you get laid?

Sadly, no.

You are quite lucky there, Than, my man. Although, I would think that most cops would do something like that to kids, so long as they weren't pestering neighbors or vandalising anything.

I have one that was almost a fight...

I don't really drink, I go to have a good time and hopefully get to drive my homie's Camaro, if he gets too drunk (never happened). So, I stick to the sweet beer, because I don't like beer but I have to have at least two to stay there. I had 2 of those Mojito beer things... yeah anyways, they were alright. I also know one of the dancers there, but there's a story behind that. So anyways, I see this one dude with a shaved head, and a big red jacket on walking around trying to give people hard looks. Me and my homie are chilling with our backs to the bar, when one of his friends that he knew for about 2 years sees him. He starts his conversation, and Red (that's what we called him) approaches me. He mumbles some wanna be gang bullshit, so I just lean my shoulder away from him, so as to turn my back to him. I know, you should never turn your back on an enemy, but it's all good, because there was a mirror behind the bar, and I could keep an eye on him.

He just turned away, and went to sit on the end of the bar. I guess as he was walking past my homie and his chick friend, he mumbled something rude. He comes up to me and asks, "Dude, what's up with your friend?" (We always call people the other one's friend in a joking manner like that...) I go, "Fucker ain't my friend, but he's liable to get knocked the fuck out tonight if he keeps his shit up..."

About this time, I am just watching him, not trying to get involved in anything. Then the worst possible thing happens. Another drunken idiot, who we called Jesus (Dressed in all white, had a beard and long wavy hair), decided to introduce himself to Red. Not more than an introduction is spoken between them, when they approach the bar, and are pretty close to me. Red mentions he's not from California. Jesus plays to this and says it's obvious, becuause he notices people punking him. No one has so much as even taken notice to Red, let alone square up with him. Jesus starts going on about Cali hard is alot different than anywhere else. To be Cali hard, you have to treat people like shit. You have to show respect to no one. If you shake someone's hand, you need to jerk them around, to show them that you have power over them, and you won't hesitate to kill them. THEN, he tells Red to go try it out!!! So Red approaches this one dude, who actually just happened to get out of jail. He goes up, tries to shake his had, the "Cali" way. The guy just shakes it... and lets go. Red asks to shake his hand again, and the guy lets him. The guy is staring at Red now, like "What the fuck is he trying to do?" because Red is squeezing his hand with what looks to be all his strength, and concentrating on jerking the hand around. You know the look... with your brow all wrinkled up, staring at whatever it is your has your concentration, as though the workings of said device were completely new to you. Yeah, so anyways, Red gives up after the third try, and the guy just stares at him while he walks away, with a major puzzled look on his face. So, Red retreats to the soft feathery robes of Jesus for more "Cali" lessons. Jesus then starts telling him that ALL women are whores. All these dancers are here for is to fuck you when you pay them. Don't show the women respect, because they are worse than the dudes. The 'bitches' will walk all over you if you are nice.

By this time, I have to get away, because he also starts going off on black people. Now for me, respect is the MOST important thing in my life. I mean, if I had a choice to be well respected and broke, or not respected at all and rich, I would rather be broke and well respected. So, back to the story, I get away, and just start watching my friend finishing her song up on stage. Another dancer goes up there, and then I notice Red. He goes up and sits near the stage, at about half way through the song. I notice him throwing shit at the dancer, but I don't know what it is. Finally the dancer has enough, and just sits on stage, playing with her phone. Red continues to throw shit at her. By now, I realize, "This mother fucker is throwing PENNIES at the dancer!?!?!" The song ends, he ties up the rest of the bag of his pennies, and throws the bag at her. He leaves the stage seating area, and goes to talk more "Cali hard-ness" with Jesus again. I notice my homie talking with the dude fresh out of jail. Come to find out, they were just talking about Red! I told my homie and the other dude, that I was about to fucking stomp Red's head in if he came up to me and mumbled ANY thing that resembled what Jesus was preaching about. I informed them what had happened, all the way up to the pennies. Now, my homie was in a gang, and the dude fresh out of jail said he used to be in a race gang. Then, the big news hits. My dancer friend comes up to me, and tells me that Red, asked her how much to have sex. She told him she wasn't a whore, and he spit on her.

Now, this fucker done went too far. I figured he had gone to the bathroom, so I look for my homie. I see him and the jail dude, just near the end of the bar nearest the door, when Red is approached by the bouncer and asked to leave. I stroll over to them, interested in what's going on, and find out they were 2 seconds away from just taking flight on him and Jesus. I told my homie and the other dude about him spitting on my dancer friend. We both kind of gave her the third degree, as to why she didn't say something to us earlier, but we were just glad that she didn't get hurt. Plus she said she slapped him.

So, it was just drama, no fighting, but I really wish it was.

My father is close to 50 and in great health.

I'm not close to 50 and I'm in great health. I do think I drink too much, but I don't really care. I think the part that's going to get me in trouble is that I've acquired a liking to Scotch over the last two years, and that is probably going to do me dirty in the end.

I am going to call BULLSHIT on almost everyone here. You guys can not tell me that between the thousands of drunken weekends you guys seem to have, you only have, what... 6 stories?

Those are ones that stand out. I've got some stories where I was quite an asshole, but I wish to not share those.