This is my fifth year in school and I’ve had no time to do anything fun. I’ve had to do an institutional rotation in Concord, MA which is an hour drive away. The only time I had in my schedule to do this rotation is bright and early in the morning. Some days of the week would consist of waking up at 6:30 am, doing my lame rotation from 8-10 am, driving back to Boston to go to DSM from 12-2, then working at Walgreens in the hood from 4-9 pm.
With this hectic schedule, I haven't had time to get drunk... honestly. Maybe enough time to get tipsy once every two weeks if that.
On this rainy Tuesday in October, it was no different... busy.
I was at school typing up a SOAP on heart failure; this patient got an exacerbation of heart failure because he went to a party and had a little too much salt. I wanted to be done with this SOAP assignment by 6 pm and pregame for the Halloween party at Jake Ivory’s. The later it gets, and the longer it takes me to do this SOAP, the more it aggravates me. I keep rereading how this guy had too much salt, and it’s making me crave some margaritas. I finally finish this damn assignment at 8 pm. I rush over to the liquor store, get a bottle of tequila and head over to the Taj Mahal where Beamin’s girl lives.
The last meal I had was breakfast and I haven't been drinking much lately so my tolerance is low again. So I do 10 shots of tequila in an hour. I’m feeling warm inside and I brought my dancing shoes. I throw on my outfit real quick... a white ribbon on the shoulder... and a card around my chest.. it reads:
I was God’s gift to women.
We head over to get a cab at 9:30 pm. As I’m walking towards school, Beta hails me down. He’s with Maria and they give me a ride to Jake Ivory’s. What a nice guy?
I get in line and who’s in front of me? Butterfly.
I’ve been crushing on this other girl, Pumpkin. But Pumpkin has a boyfriend. I pregamed with her tonight and she’s looking damn good. The plan is to talk, flirt, and dance with this girl. 10 shots of tequila make me forget this plan.
We get into the bar and the first person I walk by, taps me on the elbow.
This girl normally doesn’t like me because I “don’t say hi to her at school.”
She says, “Hello Sing K YEE, do you know what I am?”
She’s wearing red and has horns on her head...
I respond, “No, what the hell are you?”
“I’m the devil Sing K YEE.”
10 shots of tequila take away my quick wit and charm.
So I respond by shoving my tongue down her throat.
I’m sucking face with the Devil for what seems like the whole time I was at the club.
The Devil must’ve had 10 shots of tequila too.
It felt like I was at the club for only 10 minutes, apparently it was there for about 2 hours. The 10 shots of tequila have hit me and now I’m blackout drunk. According to Frankie D, I’m “mauling” every girl in sight, doing lewd things to them... everyone’s having a good time.
At 11:50 pm, a bouncer tells me to follow him. He walks me outside. I’m wondering what he’s going to say to me, did I win the award for best costume?? Nah, my costume fell apart 10 minutes after I got in. We get outside and he says to me, “goodbye.” I got kicked out of the club. That tricky bouncer, he got me! So clever!
At this point, my memory only comes in glimpses. I didn’t bring any cash to the club. But somehow I got a cab ride to the Taj Mahal. I left my keys at the apartment. Next thing I know, these three Indian girls are giving me a tour of their apartment. I vaguely know these girls... one of them was my orientee four years ago. After their lovely tour, I leave.
Next thing I know, I getting awoken by a cop and two EMTs. Apparently, I passed out in the hallway of the 8th floor of the Taj. The cop says to me, “What did you take tonight besides alcohol?” I drunkenly respond, nothing just tequila. Cop says, “Seriously, what else did you take tonight?”
I confess, Tequila and... more Tequila.
Next thing, I’m in the ambulance... cop is gone. I don’t remember taking the elevator down. Hallway straight to the ambulance. EMT: “Why were you passed out on the 8th floor?” I’m trying to tell this guy that I left my keys at my friend’s apartment who lives on the 2nd floor. But I’m too tequila’d out to get this out of my mouth. It sounds fine to me, he responds, “Dude, you’re not making any sense.” I must’ve had a tequila slur in my speech. I give him the alphabet, I get to the letter K and I switch to the Greek alphabet. I didn’t finish that either. I’m fucked up, I can always do the Greek alphabet when I drink... too much tequila tonight. EMT gives me one last chance, and I fail it. He takes my information from my license and they drive me to Beth Israel. We get there and I don’t want any activated charcoal or a gastric lavage or a catheter. So I say to the two EMTs, “What’s that to the left?”
They look and I ran away.
That’s going to be one expensive ambulance ride. They didn’t treat me... bastards didn’t even give me any water.
I ran back to the Taj Mahal. The security guard is like not you again.
I finally get in touch with Beamin’ and them. I pass out there.
I wake up at 8:30 am and go to school.
Teeth all furry, wearing the same thing I had on the day before, reeking of Jose Cuervo, wearing expired contacts that I slept in, feeling like shit.
I went to APM class at 9,
Midterm review at 10,
Business Group meeting at 11,
Community Lab Review at 11:30,
and Seminar 3-5.
I needed Zofran (meds that prevent vomiting) until 4 pm all cause of that Tila Tequila.