Avoiding Sodomy and Pantsless Adventures
This was back in the summer of 2006 when The Real Deal and I went down to Ottawa to visit MCF and HorseBoy. I hadn’t seen HorseBoy in a few years; he had gotten into some trouble with some dicey characters and was forced to flee Montreal. This was our reunion and you bet your ass it was going to be an epic shit-show.
The Real Deal and I arrived around 3pm on Saturday. We made our way up the apartment, shared a joyous hello as it had been far too long since I had seen one of my oldest and dearest friends. We promptly got down to business and started hammering some beers. After a while, HorseBoy claimed he had a surprise for us but we needed to go pick it up. The Real Deal had to drive out to the country with the worst fucking directions known to man. Here’s one of the turns we were told to take, “turn left at the German garage.” What the fuck is a German garage? Anyways, we found our destination, a dope dealer’s home whose yard was a wasteland. There were dead cars and random shit all over the place. I was uncomfortable. HorseBoy had arranged for us to try some MDMA, which is more or less pure ecstasy. I had never tried this strain of ecstasy and HorseBoy had gone through all this trouble soooo why not?
We each took a tablet when we got back to HorseBoy’s and continued smashing down beers. I was drunk at this point, and the dope was beginning to take hold. We were playing Xbox and I ended up losing at NHL 2K6 which meant I had to take a shot of whatever they desired. No problem, do your worst. Well, I don’t know where the fuck HorseBoy found this piss (Dimsum got it from China I learned the next day) but it was, at that point in my life, the most foul, disgusting, intoxicating drink I had ever had. I had a double shot and nearly threw up all over the apartment. I was burping up that flith all night. It’s called Moutai Ying Bin, it's a rice wine, and it tastes like sin. Should a friend offer you this, find new friends because he/she just doesn’t like you.
I was drunk in a bad way and the MDMA, which was supposed to make me happy, gave me a terrible trip. I was questioning everything, thinking my friends, who I had known for years and years, had finally turned on me by feeding me filthy shots subsequently turning me into a jabbering fool. I accused them of ridiculous things as they looked at me and each other, wondering aloud if I should even come out with them. That frightened me into a ‘get sober enough so they take me out with them’ state.
I locked myself in the bathroom, chain smoking cigarettes and taking quick cold showers to jolt me into a decently drunk state, not a terrified, falling over myself drunk. After half an hour of this cigarette/cold shower therapy, I straightened myself out, settled down with my friends and regained my composure. HorseBoy commented that I worried him for awhile. Christ, he was worried... if only he knew what I had been thinking up to that point.
We left the apartment at around 9pm, bars in Ottawa close at 2am for some reason so the nights have to start a little earlier. The first bar we went to was Pub 101. We didn’t stay very long so it couldn’t have been that good. The second place wasn’t much better. We were upstairs and were pretty much the only people there. We had some brews, shot the shit, and had a decent time. Then, out of nowhere comes this pretty big Native that plunks himself down right next to me. I, being the drunken socialite that I am, begin chatting him up. The conversation turns to hockey and sure enough, he’s got a cousin who plays in the NHL. He rips out a picture of Jordin Tootoo, a tough guy for the Nashville Predators. Hot damn, that’s alright. Then, things started to turn queer, literally.
This big Native bought me a few drinks, weird drinks, like Daiquiris or something. Then he got real touchy feely. He had his arm around me and was holding me, ever so tenderly. I was hammered so I figured he was as drunk as I was. Nope, turns out he was gayer than a stack of strawberry pancakes. MCF was trying to pry me away from him but he just held onto me and kept talking about who knows what. MCF finally pulled me away from the big gay Native and kept me close to them. A few minutes later, I wondered off, broke my pint glass and had us all thrown out. It was the end of the night anyway so my friends didn’t really care all that much.
We hit the streets, walking towards the bus back to HorseBoy's when I decided I needed to relieve myself. I went up to the side of an apartment building, dropped my pants, whipped out my pistol and unleashed hell all over a window while this horrified man watched me from inside. I thought this was hilarious, my friend in the window did not see the humour in this. I finished up and decided that, since my pants were already nearly off, why not take them off altogether? And so dear friends, I walked to the bus without my pants while everyone who passed was completely horrified. At this point, I was lights out drunk. I passed out the ground waiting to catch the bus. Some French girls walked by me, as I lay on the street with my pants slung over my shoulders and said "c'est fucker ca, c'est fucker" (translation: that's fucked up, that's just fucked up). Finally, the bus showed up. I was picked up and told to retrieve my wallet. It wasn't there. It must have fallen out when I took off my pants after my offensive tinkle.
MCF was a good sport and went to try and find it but there was no luck. It was gone. Another bus came, HorseBoy paid my fare, put me on the bus (still pants less) and plopped me down on a seat in the back. I immediately fell asleep and tumbled backwards onto some unsuspecting passenger. MCF had to hold me up the whole time while I held my twig and berries. By the grace of some divine spirit, we made it back to the apartment without another unfortunate mishap. I fell asleep on the couch and woke up in utter confusion the next morning.
I made much less of a drunken ass out of myself the second night.