Kicking it old-school

Here’s what we know happened: On Saturday, January 16, Johan woke on his temporary sleeping arrangement, aka the couch, at around 2 PM. Johan wasn’t feeling entirely too present at the time. In fact, Johan was feeling drunk off his ass and slightly confused, nay very confused, as to why exactly he was feeling this way. After all, he’d only decided to go down to Louise for a beer or two after work on the night before. Why, pray tell, was he now waking up drunk at 2 PM with the prospect of a raging hangover to come?

Piecing together the events that had led to this particular situation took not only all of what remained of the Saturday, but also some of Sunday and the following days. So, with the help of testimonies and recollections from Louise and Penny, and pieces from my own failing memory, here’s what we think happened:

Louise had been bothering me for some time about showing up at her place for beers on Friday. As Friday night is a working night for me and I thus had to turn down the invitation, she instead demanded that I show up after work and join the party. Now, years of experience have shown me that there are a million better uses for your time in this world than arguing with women, so I agreed, packed a few beers in my work bag on Friday and set off for a rather uneventful evening at GLS.

I got off work at around 1 AM and Torben, my great colleague cum personal chauffeur, dropped me off at Louise’s some ten minutes later. I knocked on the door and a slightly, well, tipsy looking Louise greeted me with a hug and a “Teeheehee, your hair is short.” – “.. and you’re drunk,” I countered, referring to the fact that she’d already seen me a couple of time since my haircut, sporting considerably shorter hair than I do now. Louise but smiled and, being the good hostess that she is, immediately handed my a can of beer as she left me into the living room where I paused for about two seconds to chug the beer before belching, popping open another and saying hi to the other guests, Penny and Michael.. Because that’s just how I roll.

My stereotypical, loud entrance seemed to cause cheer in the small crowd all of whom I hadn’t seen in ages and I was met with devil horns and high fives – a greeting fitting for a man of my stature, of course. I plopped myself down on the couch and took part in the activities of the evening which mainly consisted of blasting metal, watching videos on Youtube, making fun of Louise (who had apparently been napping a little prior to my showing up).. And well, generally trashing everybody whether they happened to be in attendance or not. There were also a few beers had and a strange fascination with British rock band Queen and lead singer Freddie Mercury in the sense that we listened to, discussed and sang along with their songs with an enthusiasm that you wouldn’t expect from four decidedly straight people.. But as Michael put it, there’s nothing gay about being moved by “Who Wants To Live Forever”

By about 2:30 AM, I had downed the four beers I’d brought as well as a couple of Louise’s and then suddenly prodigal friends Svart and Martin Marks appeared out of nowhere, packing a large stack of beers and some booze as well for good measure.. And that may well have spelled the end of my remembering ways.. At any rate, that’s where things started to get a little dazed. More beers were had, Elvis, Cash, Sinatra and others were listened to, possibly in the company of more beer. This went on for about a half hour or so before Michael forfeited and went home drunk and confused. Some thirty minutes later, Svart and Marks suddenly disappeared, stating that they were heading off to a sleazy bar to pick up women.

At this point of time, Louise too was reeling heavily and finally, at around 4 AM admitted defeat and stated that she was heading to bed. Penny and I, at this time, had this weird, invincible feeling that we were just getting started and showed no desire in leaving. The compromise, as it has strangely often happened in this particular circle of friends was that the host, or in this case the hostess, went to bed while we stayed around and caused more mayhem.. Well, causing mayhem wasn’t really the plan. All Penny and I really wanted to do was to look at a few videos from Metallica’s latest live DVD and have a drink or two.. But somehow we failed at doing that in a quiet and controlled manner.. Or so I suspect at least because the next thing I remember is Penny staggering around mumbling about wanting to go home.. And then waking up at home myself the next morning drunk and confused.

From what I’ve been able to piece together from simple math, witness reports and the carnage left behind, we stayed at Louise’s until about 6 AM, blasting Metallica loudly. During that time, I drank about 11 beers on top of what I had already had while Penny, with a little help from me, apparently finished about a pint of Captain Morgan Spiced Rum. After that, in what must have been very slurred terms, we must have decided that enough was enough and that it was time to head home.. At which point Penny disappeared.. On his bicycle apparently! A move which in retrospect seemed a little daring to me and apparently also caused him no uncertain amount of grief as he, as could be expected, didn’t make it far before crashing and taking a skid along the asphalt.

But, of course, this I knew nothing of on Saturday morning. Fuck, I don’t even know how I got home myself. All I know is I managed somehow and I think I made a backtrack to Louise’s to pick up something I’d forgotten – though obviously not my gloves which I were entirely incapable of finding the next day even if I did find two full cans of beer in the place that they should have been. Later enquiries showed that I’d apparently left them behind at Louise’s.. Smart man, picking alcohol over staying warm and general health concerns. So that was more or less that that. How things went so wrong, I’ve no idea, I certainly didn’t remember doing anything wrong. But then again, I don’t really remember much. More than Penny, but not much. It’s been a detective work of CSI-like proportions just piecing this much of the night and morning together. All that’s really certain is that we hung out, kicked it old-school style and got drunk and passed out like back in the good old school days.. And the recovery process ripped an entire Saturday out of my calendar.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m getting too old for this crap!


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