This one time in Toronto/ reptilian stair climbing/Zero to Midnight
Last night I was howling laughing at a story Jeff was telling me, about a certain drunken escapade a few weeks ago. It seems he went out for a few casual drinks and ended up as I often say: "way past midnight drunk". So the question is, if he only had a few drinks, how on earth did he go full blown non verbal so fast? The possibility and reality of being drugged is all too real. I remember this one time...
I moved to Toronto in early 2009 with Stereos, the natural progression to immerse our band in our then perceived land of success. We had a few slow months when we initially moved and as a freshly single 23 year old, going out was my/our favourite activity.
A few of us headed out to a basement bar on Queen street, to take in some live karaoke. At this point I wasnt exactly a seasoned veteran boozer, but I slowly and steadily was earning my stripes. The band is cranking out "Ain't Too Proud To Beg" and I am beyond excited. Currently sitting at a 2/10 level of drunk, yknow pretty manageable, maybe feeling a little buzzed. My next drink I order is a jack and coke. Why. I never drink those. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was the late hour, maybe i was feeling adventurous. It's a delicious drink and anyone who knows me knows that drinks don't last long around me (I'm a thirsty guy ok?). But of course I'll have another drink, of course I want fun, of course I love everybody (again, if you know me, I turn into "I love you man" when the liquor starts working). And oh was it working, or so I thought... Quick recap: I've had about 4 drinks at this point, I'm approaching 3/10 drunkenness, and I'm having one heck of a good time.
The next few hours were vividly described to me, with cringe worthy details, as I remember absolutely zero from 11pm on.
"Allegedly" I finished what would be my fourth drink and slammed the glass down. "Let's get out of here" I shout to my friends. Well, they translated that from my mangled sounds, before translation I guess it sounded more like a Chewbacca impression with a snorkel mask on. Nailed it. I could still communicate at this point. Next up: stairs. Basement bar remember?
I recall none of this, as I'm sure I was seeing double, looking around wondering to myself why everyone had an identical twin. I approach the daunting, looming, absolutely incredible feat that is climbing two flights of stairs. Easy. No problem. My attempt at the first few stairs is a valiant one. I imagine I looked like a football player in old school style training camp, one foot at a time hopping through tires laid out before me. 4 stairs ascended, only 20 more til freedom. Time to get low. Oh so low. So low that i am now climbing these steps on my stomach. Slithering up this jagged urban mountainside like some kind of untamed, gigantic, slurring lizard. Whatever works right guys?
I make it to my apex, my salvation, the front door. With a friend under each arm I am carried with the same fluidity and dexterity as an adult sized marionette. Into the back of the van I go, into the depths of the evening.....
Now, I certainly have guzzled my fair share of the good stuff. Never have a I ever had such an instant 0 to Midnight experience. The only explanation is that I must have had some foreign substance added to my cocktails. If not, it was a complete fluke and hasn't occurred since. Either way, not cool. It was funny because I was with friends who took care of me, but I couldn't imagine being alone and that dinged up.
Moral of the story? Don't go to basement karaoke. Haha I'm kidding, just watch your drinks....
