Personal Pub Crawl and Prostitute Harassment
I don’t know what it is but going out for “a few drinks” with my friends always turns into some epic drunken quest of ridiculous deeds and sadistic urges to defy any normal amounts of alcohol consumption. What started as a harmless 5 a 7 with NardStar evolved into pure, unfiltered stupidity and as history has proven, nothing first-rate could have possibly come of it.
A Friday in late July this past summer we went to Thursdays after work for some cocktails. He was meeting up with some chicks later and I was hoping for the 9 pm train home. I had promised Tyler Durden I’d help him paint his new apartment early Saturday morning and I didn’t feel like painting hung over. Well, Durden put a nice fucking twist into those plans when he joined us at Thursdays later on in the evening. He and I together, drunk, is just a horrifying blend.
To add fuel to this somewhat tame fire was the unexpected arrival of Gonads the Barbarian, who rarely graces us with his presence. Nothing silly was decided upon, we just sat around a table at Thursdays and knocked back spectacularly strong drinks until about 8. By then we were half cut. Durden and I were reassuring each other that we would indeed be home at a reasonable time and that his apartment would be painted, beginning at 7 am. We went through these motions because we had decided to switch the party to Mad Hatters down the street.
I should have seen the signs of what was about to transpire but I was either drunker than thought or legitimately believed we’d be home by midnight. Anyhow, we ended up at Hatters on Crescent and proceeded to knock back pitchers of beer and chase those bastards down with shots of Jameson. After shooting some pool upstairs and finishing what was left of the pitchers, NardStar convinced us all to go to St-Laurent for “a few drinks” with the girls he was partying with. We accepted.
On St-Laurent we selected our traditional stomping ground to party, which is B-Sides. We met up with NardStar’s ladies and started ripping drinks there. They have this Mason jar filled with hell called “moonshine”. It’s a lethal mix of various alcohols and energy drink. Three of those and your eyes are crossed while you stumble around into people because you’re fucked in half drunk. I had two before the skirmish broke out.
I didn’t see what happened but Durden was being held by some small guy bellowing “DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” as Durden smiled in his face. Durden is not a huge guy but he’s been kickboxing and training for years. That small fellow probably didn’t know how lucky he was the bouncers stepped in before Durden had the chance to rearrange his face.
This little debacle had us thrown out into the streets like dirty whores. We waited ten minutes and walked back up to the bouncer, who in turn asked us if we were seriously trying to get back in before turning us away like lepers. This meant a change in venue was needed and that turned out to be Tokyo, home of the The Ukraine Succumbs to a Confusing Attack…Because of Me story.
I find it pretty unbelievable that bouncers let visibly drunk and disgruntled people into their venues at 1:30 am. It’s retarded but I wasn’t complaining. Inside, NardStar, Durden and NardStar’s harem continued boozing until they switched on the lights at 3 am. This signaled the end of the night…for normal people. Gonads the Barbarian wisely cut his losses and left before any of this.
NardStar and his ladies walked with us for awhile before jumping into cabs and taking off. At 4 am, piss drunk, Durden and I still felt that the night wasn’t over. As he was driving (yes, I know) towards the 20 to take us back towards home, I beckoned to some truck drivers asking where we could find some prostitutes. I had decided we needed to go harass and demean some hookers. They directed us to Ontario street where sure enough, we saw us some prostitutes.
My plan backfired horribly. Instead of us harassing them, they were laying into us. One accused us of being cops, another said we looked poor and a third wouldn’t even listen to our reasoning of why she wasn’t worth the 400$ she was requesting. Before we had time to say anything really detrimental to her ego, police lights flashed on and she took off like a bat out of hell.
During our conversation with the whore, we failed to notice the domestic disturbance going on two houses down from our car. Apparently some guy lost his shit and the cops were called. As all this was going on, we slowly reclined our seats as we were both masters in stealth, waiting for the cops to leave. After about 20 minutes, they did.
This was the signal for us to get the fuck home. It was 5 am, birds were chirping, things were not looking good. Now, for reasons I don’t understand, Durden likes to push his car to dangerous limits. The gas empty indicator had been on for the better part of an hour at that point. Instead of filling up, he decided to hit the highway and see how far we could make it. As drunk as I was, and I was very drunk, this seemed stupid.
I was right. For reasons only Durden could ever truly understand, he decided to pull into Dorval airport and burn every stop sign out of fear that stopping would stall his car. That’s illegal. To reinforce that point, an airport security guard pulled him over and ticketed him. When the guard asked him to kill the engine, Durden shouted “I CAN’T!” Somehow he only got a $100 ticket. He had beaten another DUI.
Things were getting dire now. The car was noticeably lurching and he still refused to put gas. I honestly don’t know how we got to the gas station next to my house, but we did. As he filled it up, I ran into my house, got my painting supplies and met him at his car so we could head back to his place and start painting.
By the time we got to his apartment, it was 7 am. We actually came through on the time. We were horribly drunk and without sleep but we made it. Too drunk to paint, we passed out on his wood floor for a few hours in his sauna of an apartment. We woke up at 9 am, still drunk but in better shape than earlier.
The first half hour of painting was horrible. Durden looked at me at one point and asked me if I knew how to paint. I told him to be patient, everything would be fine once I regained my balance and shook the double vision. And I was right, sort of.