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| A physical manifestation of my post-Mardi Gras shame. |
It's pretty bad, but I have been much, much worse. See, sometimes I go somewhere and a series of events happens that results in me getting so fucked up that I literally give myself a lifetime ban. I can never go back. The mere thought of returning to the scene of the crime makes me nauseous. I call it Post Traumatic Party Disorder. It's exactly like real PTSD but with partying instead of war. Because the two are so comparable right?
How close was San Diego to earning a lifetime ban? I would say about as close as Indiana was to missing the NCAA Tournament. Let me talk you through it...
Saturday I drove down to San Diego and began drinking heavily (among other activities I wouldn't care to disclose) around noon. I was at a music festival for 12 hours and it was 93 degrees out. I danced, I made out with a stripper, I put a fat girl on my shoulders. It was a great day. Had I called it a night, everything would have been fine.
But I didn't! I continued to party with our neighbors until four o clock in the morning! We went to this heroin den of a nightclub in the San Diego ghetto (it exists!) I attempted to have sex with a Filipino girl (I failed!) And had I gone to bed at 4am and slept until noon, everything would have been fine.
But I didn't! I woke up the next day and drank heavily (among other activities I wouldn't care to disclose) I went to brunch, I went to another bar, and I came SO FUCKING CLOSE to going to the second day of the festival. Like every bone in my body wanted to push through and keep the binge going. I legitimately considered partying all night, sleeping on the floor, waking up at 4am, snorting an Adderall and driving to work, in Santa Monica.
But I didn't...thus no lifetime ban. No I stopped drinking at 4pm, half napped, half watched The Dark Knight Rises until 8pm. Then I drove back to LA. I stopped 4 times to take a break. (McDonald's twice, once for beef jerky and gas, once to just sit down and dump a bottle of water on my head) I was so paranoid about getting pulled over for DUI that I took the PCH the whole way home instead of the freeway. I got back to LA at midnight, slept a few hours and went to work. It sucked.
BUT NO LIFETIME BAN. I will be back some day San Diego, I cannot wait.
But I haven't always been that lucky. The following is a non-exhaustive list of the places I will never return and what led me here...
New Orleans, LA
Inciting Incident: Mardi Gras
Downfall caused by: Alcohol
You've heard my Mardi Gras story, it's a classic tale of too much of a good thing. There is a reason spring break ends at 22, that is the last age you can sustain drinking 18 hours a day for a week straight. If you try that at say 25, you get something called delirium. It is basically alcohol withdrawal that is so bad you can die.
For a snap shot of just how fucked up I was on this trip I will say the following: For a week straight, I went to a bar called The Tropical Isle, smashed hand grenades (50% everclear 50%sugar) and asked girls if I could literally suck on their tits with another one of my friends. I'm serious. "Hi, I'm Dave, that's Matt, can we suck on your tits? No? What if we buy you a drink first? Cool." I had a success rate of about 12%. That means almost 9 out of 10 chicks I talked to that weekend slapped me and told me to go fuck myself. Do you know how drunk you need to be to pull that shit off? I think at some point I wanted to stop but my buddy gave me the Al Pacino speech from Any Given Sunday. That speech could convince me to run through a brick wall or assassinate a foreign head of state.
Anyway that weekend ended with me having a withdrawal related seizure on the bottom bunk at a hostel while 2 fat people had sex above me. That's how a town earns a lifetime ban.
Probability of reversing ban: 1%
Bloomington, IN
Inciting Incident: Little 500
Downfall caused by: Everything
I will return to Bloomington. In fact I'm going back in a few months. But I will never go back to a Little 500 the rest of my life. I went back in 2010 and it was cool, a lot of my friends were still around, but two years out I vowed not to go. My run was over. I was working glorified telemarketing at the time and it was the Friday of Little 5. My firing from that company was coming any day now (I think they had found the blog already) My manager comes to my wing at 5pm on Friday and announces "Hey guys, let's all make 50 more calls before we leave for the weekend. Smile and Dial!"
Fuck that.
I made one call.
To my drug dealer... and started driving south.
By 2011 molly was an open door drug in frats and EDM had taken over the world. Gone were the days of ironic boy band music and "Country Roads," the race day courtyard of my old frat looked like the opening scene of 'Spring Breakers' It was pretty rad. But after a day of drinking at the frat and then Kilroy's I found myself so drunk that I couldn't walk, but so cracked out on uppers that I couldn't black out. I remember each and every time I fell on my face trying to crawl back to the Courtyard by Marriott. I still have blood stains on my pink shorts and scars on my forehead from that night.
Probability of reversing ban: 0%
Las Vegas.
Inciting Incident: Various Bachelor Parties
Downfall Caused by: Probably the semen in the pools
Every time I go to Vegas for more than 12 hours I get sick for like two weeks. Next time you ask me to come to Vegas? NOOOOOOOOPE!!!
Probability of reversing ban: 25% (It's so close)
Amsterdam
Inciting Incident: Study Abroad
Downfall Caused by: WEED BRO
Want to feel like a really huge piece of shit? First abandon your roommate when his appendix explodes on the train to Amsterdam. Then when you get there get super stoned. While stoned, go visit the house of a poor Jewish girl that was killed at a Nazi death camp and then to top it all off, miss your flight home because you were stoned and buy a new $600 flight on your parents' credit card.
This is why I don't smoke weed yo.
Probability of reversing ban: 5%
Lower East Side
Inciting Incident: MLK weekend
Downfall Caused by: NYC
The first time I ever went to New York I fell in love with the city. It was summer, I was staying in a house on Long Island. I had friends that were home for the summer, they had pools. I took the LIRR to Manhattan during the day and did touristy shit. At night I went to divey bars. It was fun.
Then when my homey Paul moved into a church in Union Square, I decided to go back and visit him in January. The sinning done in that old converted church redefines irony. I've repressed most of the memories of that weekend but what I do remember is drinking about 100 beers in Brother Jimmy's, someone getting stabbed at a night club and staying out until 6 in the morning on a fucking SUNDAY. My flight was at 7am, I was planning on going to work! The only reason I made my flight was because a blizzard delayed in three hours. I called in sick 3 days in a row, I didn't leave my room, I turned my phone off and blacked out the curtains in my room. I imagine that is what depression feels like. When I walked into work after calling in sick three days in a row after not answering any phone calls or emails I was told "You know people were really worried about you."
"Oh, well I mean I had sick days"
"With what?"
What's the politically correct way to say a brutal coke comedown? Fuck New York.
Probability of reversing ban: 50%
Lincoln Park
Inciting incident: Beaumont
Downfall caused by: I don't know where to begin
Again this is a specific place. I will go back to Lincoln Park but I am certain I will never go back to Beaumont. For those of you that don't know. Beaumont was a bar that was open from 1am-5am Wednesday-Saturday. There was a time in my life that I wanted to be around the type of people that went to a bar in Lincoln Park from 1 to 5 in the morning (hint: it was all drunk former sorority girls!)
Now I prefer to order draft beer. I like my bars to close at 2. I can't even really hit the dance floor anymore. I get to sweaty.
I went to a fucking bar last night for St. Pats (I started this blog on a Monday, finishing on a Wednesday) I sweat through 2 different shirts. Do you know how badly a girl has to want to fuck you to go home with you when you're sweaty? Like if you need a girl to be 70% into you to go home with you when you're dry, she has to be like 96% about it if you're soaking.
Very few girls are 96% into me. I think I should probably just give up my reckless lifestyle and learn how to just like, have a conversation?
Probability of continuing to be a degenerate? 100%
But I didn't! I continued to party with our neighbors until four o clock in the morning! We went to this heroin den of a nightclub in the San Diego ghetto (it exists!) I attempted to have sex with a Filipino girl (I failed!) And had I gone to bed at 4am and slept until noon, everything would have been fine.
But I didn't! I woke up the next day and drank heavily (among other activities I wouldn't care to disclose) I went to brunch, I went to another bar, and I came SO FUCKING CLOSE to going to the second day of the festival. Like every bone in my body wanted to push through and keep the binge going. I legitimately considered partying all night, sleeping on the floor, waking up at 4am, snorting an Adderall and driving to work, in Santa Monica.
But I didn't...thus no lifetime ban. No I stopped drinking at 4pm, half napped, half watched The Dark Knight Rises until 8pm. Then I drove back to LA. I stopped 4 times to take a break. (McDonald's twice, once for beef jerky and gas, once to just sit down and dump a bottle of water on my head) I was so paranoid about getting pulled over for DUI that I took the PCH the whole way home instead of the freeway. I got back to LA at midnight, slept a few hours and went to work. It sucked.
BUT NO LIFETIME BAN. I will be back some day San Diego, I cannot wait.
But I haven't always been that lucky. The following is a non-exhaustive list of the places I will never return and what led me here...
New Orleans, LA
Inciting Incident: Mardi Gras
Downfall caused by: Alcohol
You've heard my Mardi Gras story, it's a classic tale of too much of a good thing. There is a reason spring break ends at 22, that is the last age you can sustain drinking 18 hours a day for a week straight. If you try that at say 25, you get something called delirium. It is basically alcohol withdrawal that is so bad you can die.
For a snap shot of just how fucked up I was on this trip I will say the following: For a week straight, I went to a bar called The Tropical Isle, smashed hand grenades (50% everclear 50%sugar) and asked girls if I could literally suck on their tits with another one of my friends. I'm serious. "Hi, I'm Dave, that's Matt, can we suck on your tits? No? What if we buy you a drink first? Cool." I had a success rate of about 12%. That means almost 9 out of 10 chicks I talked to that weekend slapped me and told me to go fuck myself. Do you know how drunk you need to be to pull that shit off? I think at some point I wanted to stop but my buddy gave me the Al Pacino speech from Any Given Sunday. That speech could convince me to run through a brick wall or assassinate a foreign head of state.
Anyway that weekend ended with me having a withdrawal related seizure on the bottom bunk at a hostel while 2 fat people had sex above me. That's how a town earns a lifetime ban.
Probability of reversing ban: 1%
Bloomington, IN
Inciting Incident: Little 500
Downfall caused by: Everything
I will return to Bloomington. In fact I'm going back in a few months. But I will never go back to a Little 500 the rest of my life. I went back in 2010 and it was cool, a lot of my friends were still around, but two years out I vowed not to go. My run was over. I was working glorified telemarketing at the time and it was the Friday of Little 5. My firing from that company was coming any day now (I think they had found the blog already) My manager comes to my wing at 5pm on Friday and announces "Hey guys, let's all make 50 more calls before we leave for the weekend. Smile and Dial!"
Fuck that.
I made one call.
To my drug dealer... and started driving south.
By 2011 molly was an open door drug in frats and EDM had taken over the world. Gone were the days of ironic boy band music and "Country Roads," the race day courtyard of my old frat looked like the opening scene of 'Spring Breakers' It was pretty rad. But after a day of drinking at the frat and then Kilroy's I found myself so drunk that I couldn't walk, but so cracked out on uppers that I couldn't black out. I remember each and every time I fell on my face trying to crawl back to the Courtyard by Marriott. I still have blood stains on my pink shorts and scars on my forehead from that night.
Probability of reversing ban: 0%
Las Vegas.
Inciting Incident: Various Bachelor Parties
Downfall Caused by: Probably the semen in the pools
Every time I go to Vegas for more than 12 hours I get sick for like two weeks. Next time you ask me to come to Vegas? NOOOOOOOOPE!!!
Probability of reversing ban: 25% (It's so close)
Amsterdam
Inciting Incident: Study Abroad
Downfall Caused by: WEED BRO
Want to feel like a really huge piece of shit? First abandon your roommate when his appendix explodes on the train to Amsterdam. Then when you get there get super stoned. While stoned, go visit the house of a poor Jewish girl that was killed at a Nazi death camp and then to top it all off, miss your flight home because you were stoned and buy a new $600 flight on your parents' credit card.
This is why I don't smoke weed yo.
Probability of reversing ban: 5%
Lower East Side
Inciting Incident: MLK weekend
Downfall Caused by: NYC
The first time I ever went to New York I fell in love with the city. It was summer, I was staying in a house on Long Island. I had friends that were home for the summer, they had pools. I took the LIRR to Manhattan during the day and did touristy shit. At night I went to divey bars. It was fun.
Then when my homey Paul moved into a church in Union Square, I decided to go back and visit him in January. The sinning done in that old converted church redefines irony. I've repressed most of the memories of that weekend but what I do remember is drinking about 100 beers in Brother Jimmy's, someone getting stabbed at a night club and staying out until 6 in the morning on a fucking SUNDAY. My flight was at 7am, I was planning on going to work! The only reason I made my flight was because a blizzard delayed in three hours. I called in sick 3 days in a row, I didn't leave my room, I turned my phone off and blacked out the curtains in my room. I imagine that is what depression feels like. When I walked into work after calling in sick three days in a row after not answering any phone calls or emails I was told "You know people were really worried about you."
"Oh, well I mean I had sick days"
"With what?"
What's the politically correct way to say a brutal coke comedown? Fuck New York.
Probability of reversing ban: 50%
Lincoln Park
Inciting incident: Beaumont
Downfall caused by: I don't know where to begin
Again this is a specific place. I will go back to Lincoln Park but I am certain I will never go back to Beaumont. For those of you that don't know. Beaumont was a bar that was open from 1am-5am Wednesday-Saturday. There was a time in my life that I wanted to be around the type of people that went to a bar in Lincoln Park from 1 to 5 in the morning (hint: it was all drunk former sorority girls!)
Now I prefer to order draft beer. I like my bars to close at 2. I can't even really hit the dance floor anymore. I get to sweaty.
I went to a fucking bar last night for St. Pats (I started this blog on a Monday, finishing on a Wednesday) I sweat through 2 different shirts. Do you know how badly a girl has to want to fuck you to go home with you when you're sweaty? Like if you need a girl to be 70% into you to go home with you when you're dry, she has to be like 96% about it if you're soaking.
Very few girls are 96% into me. I think I should probably just give up my reckless lifestyle and learn how to just like, have a conversation?
Probability of continuing to be a degenerate? 100%
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