A Quick Trip to the Dark Side

I have a history of getting smashed at weddings. I'm 29 years old so; I've been to roughly two dozen weddings in the last five years. I love wedding receptions. I get dressed to the nines, there's good food, and if you're lucky free booze. How can you beat that?

The last wedding I attended I behaved myself. I was too hung over from the day before to drink and I was seated at a table with two of my bosses. Saturday was Blondie's wedding and I was again seated at a table with my boss. This time however, I got wrecked. Blondie had an open bar from start to finish and openly encouraged me to cut loose. Her exact words were, "I want you to end up making out with somebody on the golf course." So, it was on.

Here is what (as best I can recall) I drank:
Unknown # of Bud Lights
1 glass of Cutty Sark Scotch
1 glass Champagne
2 glasses of Chardonnay

I'm pretty sure I made it through without doing anything that embarrassed anyone else or otherwise ruined the evening. I wasn't disrespectful to the parents, I didn't tell my boss that my job is what drove me to drink, and I didn't hook up with any of my coworkers.

What I did do is dance. I am generally able to resist the urge when I am sober, but when I get drunk at wedding receptions I cut foot loose like Kevin Bacon fighting small town oppression. Once, at my college roommate's wedding, I actually slid across the floor on my knees and yelled "Let's Dance!" People tape these things. There's proof. So, I danced with all of my female coworkers, I danced with a couple bridesmaids, and I asked one unknown girl to dance just because she was attractive.

editor's note: The boyfriend of the attractive girl arrived at the table and seemed a little agitated but hey, I didn't know. No harm. No foul.

At one point I left the dance floor and discovered that not only did everyone at my table apparently leave, but the reception hall was mostly empty. There wasn't anybody to say goodnight to so I staggered out the door. I walked a couple blocks in the wrong direction before finally arriving in the parking garage across the street from the lot in which I was parked. I vomited, crawled underneath a stairwell, and passed out. I awoke a time later lying on the ground in my suit shivering in the 35 degree weather. I walked across the street to my truck but I knew I couldn't drive. So, I folded down the back seat and slept in the back of the Expedition. I woke up about 3:30am and drove home.

So there you have it. I am that guy.

ps. Skins, if you are reading this and considering asking me to be your best man, I wait until after the toast to start drinking.