Drunkenness Rating: 16 beers

Memorial weekend started out to be just an average weekend. I hadn't made any plans, so who knew what it laid in store for me.

It had been raining off and on for quite a while, and I could not remember the last time I saw the sun. On Friday night, I went over to visit Jenn with two 'n's, and have a few beers with some friends. We sat around drinking for a few hours, and took in the last half of some crappy movie on television. During the evening, however, Jenn received a call from our friend Laurin. Jenn and Laurin were both friends from high school, but I had graduated a year earlier than both of them.

Laurin wanted to know if anyone was interested in driving to Baltimore with her to see the NCAA Men's Lacrosse Final Four. Johns Hopkins University had made it to the Final Four, and it was Laurin's alma matter, so she was very interested in seeing them play once again. I did not really want to go, but I could not think of an excuse quickly enough. After a few minutes of haggling with Jenn and looking for a way out, it became obvious that I was committed. I guess I wouldn't have minded too much, except that it meant getting up early the next morning. I also had this fear that lacrosse was akin to soccer, the dreaded low scoring sport of socialism and baby boomers. Jenn said the game was being played at Raven's stadium, and that there would be beer, so I figured it couldn't be too bad.

The next morning, we arrived at Laurin's place in Arlington around 9:30. She spent a few more minutes getting ready, and then we hit the road. Baltimore is about an hour away, but somehow Laurin managed to warp time and get us there in 35 minutes. I'm not exactly sure how she did it, but it has something to do with Einstein's theory of relativity, and approaching the speed of light with her little Mazda. I was quite impressed.

When we arrived at the stadium, much to our chagrin, we discovered that the NCAA has some sort of archaic blue law against selling beer. Apparently beer, while good enough to be the staple diet of ancient Egyptians, was taboo for collegiate athletics. Even though there were kegs and taps tempting us at every concession stand, they were off limits, and we were committed to watching the game dry.

Having never been to a Lacrosse match, I was surprised to find the game to be very exciting. Hopkins looked awful at first, but ended up going into the locker room at half-time trailing by only a point. In the second half, however, Hopkins dominated their opponent, a quality Syracuse team who had beaten them earlier in the year. The game put us all in a good mood, but we were still lacking that amber goodness in our daily routine.

After the Hopkins-Syracuse match, Virginia was going to play Maryland in the other semi-final. We had a 40 minute intermission, so we decided to make a beer run to a nearby bar. We got our hand stamped so that we could return, but somehow I didn't think that we would.

We walked over toward Camden Yards, and ventured into a sports bar called Pickles. It was 2 PM when Laurin purchased the first round of the day. After a few minutes, a table opened up, so we seated ourselves and watched the start of the next Lacrosse game on television. We gave up on going back to the stadium, and pretty soon our interest in the second game melted away into idle conversation. Three pitchers of beer and a lot of laughs later, we were starting to get hungry for dinner.

We left Pickles and walked around Baltimore's inner harbor. After a few minutes, we strolled into Little Italy, and found a good Italian place to eat dinner. We had a few more rounds of drinks, and enjoyed our meal, when things started to get pretty strange. Somehow we got onto the topic of bets and dares. I tried to get Jennifer to spread soft butter packets all over her chest. She was drunk enough that she would have done it for $300, but not drunk enough that she would have done it for the $5 that I was offering. After a few moments of haggling, we were unable to come to an agreement on price. Still, it's nice to know that she has a price, and doesn't let her scruples, or the thought of public humiliation spoil a good time.

Laurin, meanwhile, dared me to eat one of the flowers out of the vase at our table. I looked for an excuse not too, but couldn't come up with one. It was a real flower, and not silk, so chances are it wouldn't harm me. I told her it might be Oleander or something poisonous, but she doubted that they would stick anything very deadly at a table where a child might get at it. She plucked the flower from its stem, set it down in front of me, and double-dog-dared me to eat it. The flower had fallen apart, so I picked up one of the pink petals and stuck it into my mouth. It tasted bitter, but it was palatable. It was a bit like limp radicchio. I got through my third petal, when surprisingly, Jenn offered to help me out. She grabbed a petal, sniffed it curiously, and put it in her mouth. Laurin did the same, and the three of us sat there eating flower petals. It was probably a good sign that we'd had enough to drink, but the night was still young.

We left the restaurant, and stepped into a cab. I'm not exactly sure where it took us, but the fare was only $6 so it couldn't have been very far. We walked by a small hole in the wall that I'll call Joe's bar. Even though the bar was empty, the drink prices on the board out front were very appealing, so we made ourselves at home. Joe, the proprietor, told us that his bartender had called in, and he was stuck working behind the bar. Laurin decided to help him out, so she invited herself behind the bar. Jennifer and I played a few rounds of pool, and put some tunes on the juke box. A few customers started to file in, and Laurin did a pretty good job of serving them. I'm still not sure why she volunteered to work behind the bar. I'm even less sure why Joe let her stay. He certainly didn't need the help, but it freed him up to join us in a game of pool.

We stayed at Joe's until well after dark. As the rounds of drinks came and went, Laurin warned us that it wasn't looking good for her to be able to drive us home. I agreed, so I called the Marriott reservations desk to check some prices. After a quick consensus we decided to stay the night in Baltimore, so I booked a room in a nearby hotel. With the threat of driving out of the way, I told Laurin to go ahead and tie one on. At best count, we had about 6 more rounds of drinks. Joe was generous, and because Laurin had worked the bar for him our tab was only $15. We left at shortly after midnight.

A $5 cab ride later, and we were standing in front of the Claddough Pub in Canton. The bar was packed. After picking up a round of drinks, we climbed the stairs to the second level. We danced a few songs, and had a few more rounds. After a while, I found myself holding onto a railing just to remain vertical. Jenn noticed Laurin was starting to sway and zone out, so we figured it was time to get going. It was after 1 AM, and we had been drinking for more than 11 hours. We figured that was enough for most people.

When we got to the hotel, I passed out right away. It was a pretty restless night for everyone, and we were all awake by 8 AM the next morning. Although Laurin did get sick the next morning, she didn't seem to suffer any long term effects. The three of us all felt like shit, and having to do the "Walk of Shame" the next morning, certainly didn't help. I had purchased tooth brushes in the gift shop for everyone, but we were wearing the same clothes from the night before, so we couldn't have looked too pretty.

Since no one was arrested, and only one person threw up, I'd call it a successful evening of partying. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn't change a thing.