I got back from vacation on sunday, but decided to postpone work until Saturday. I'm still in lazy vacation mode, even though I did make it to class today.
Panama city was...fun. Definitely going to be the last time I do the whole spring break thing-everyone was a lot younger than we were.
As far as vacations go, it was fairly eventful. We were first to the scene of a car accident on the way there. Two middle aged men crashed their car on a construction bridge. Luckily the guard rails held, so the car didn't end up in the ocean. They seemed (smelled) drunk. The passenger was laying on the ground, pretty bloodied up, and the driver was stumbling about. We're pretty lucky because if we had gotten there 1 minute earlier they probably would have collided head on with us. Plus, it was 2:00 in the morning and there weren't many people on the road.
We saw a man have a heart attack on the beach. CPR was administered, we're not sure if he lived.
While we were walking, we witnessed a car crash into a glass store front. It was very loud and startling considering we were about 30 ft. away.
Then, there was some gigantic shark off a pier. We later found out it was a basking shark, so essentially harmless.
As for the bulk of our trip...
My friend and I were walking about, trying to find a bar to drink at, when a gorgeous ford f250 pulls out from a gas station. There are two young men in the truck, and they ask us where we're going. I drunkenly look in the distance and see a sign that says 'pizza', and I say "we're going to the pizza". Then the extremely hot driver says "do you want a ride?" Of course, lacking all judgement and being absorbed in the handsomeness of the driver, we get in.
Now I know everyone (anyone?) reading this is shaking their head. Really? Getting in the car with strangers? Natalee Holloway, anyone? And I agree. It was a monumentally retarded thing to do. Luckily, karma (from helping the accident victims prior) was on our side, and we were not murdered. I remember feeling extra confident because both my friend and I had out 3 inch switchblades on us. In hindsight, I don't think that would have helped much.
So anyways. As we're driving around we realize that the guys, while veeeerrrrrryyyyyyy hot, are also extremely dumb. That's ok, because I've realized that I have an affinity for really dumb guys. We end up just riding around for what seems like forever, and then we decide to head back to our condo. We all exchange numbers and that's that. Oh yeah, and it turns out driver boy is a cop. A very hot, very dumb, cop.
The next night we're out at a club and we get a text. A horribly misspelled and nonsensical text, from the hot men. At this point we're both drunk and getting tired of the people who we're hanging out with, so we ask them to pick us up.
"we have our bikes tonight."
Knowing these two, we figure they are probably on actual bikes of the bicycle variety.
"that's ok, come get us."
So they do, and thankfully they are motorcycles. We helmet up and ride off into the night.
Well, more like back to our condo where I proceed to have sex on my friend's couch sans condom. I needed to get tested soon, anyways.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
A good month
So last night broke my awesome streak. I've made over $700 50% of all the nights I've woked this month. Totals for the month: $160, $80, $870, $730, $760, $400, $450, $800, $700, $300. Man, those first two nights really fucked me over. Unfortunately last night was a $300 night. Plus, I needed safe-ride (that thing where they drive your car home for you), which put me out an additional $40. I'm working tonight, so hopefully I won't dip under the 50% line.
I have a new customer who I can tell is going to become obsessed with me. He's actually not too bad, and pays really well, so I hope we can just keep things as they are, and he doesn't start trying to date me.
My bouncer on the other hand...He came in on saturday (as a customer) and tipped me $200 on stage. Both hundred dollar bills. I was complaining to him the other night about guys that make it rain, because while having all that money is nice, it's a pain in the ass to stack and face it. I mentioned how I wished they could just give me a few $100s instead. Of course once I went over to talk to him he started bugging me about going on another date with him. I may or may not have agreed to a date next thursday. God, I think I just let the bouncer 'buy' me.
Ga tech kid still calls and texts a few times a week, and I still ignore him (for the most part).
I love how the less you want someone, the more they want you. Well, except when I'm on the wanting end of that deal.
I have a new customer who I can tell is going to become obsessed with me. He's actually not too bad, and pays really well, so I hope we can just keep things as they are, and he doesn't start trying to date me.
My bouncer on the other hand...He came in on saturday (as a customer) and tipped me $200 on stage. Both hundred dollar bills. I was complaining to him the other night about guys that make it rain, because while having all that money is nice, it's a pain in the ass to stack and face it. I mentioned how I wished they could just give me a few $100s instead. Of course once I went over to talk to him he started bugging me about going on another date with him. I may or may not have agreed to a date next thursday. God, I think I just let the bouncer 'buy' me.
Ga tech kid still calls and texts a few times a week, and I still ignore him (for the most part).
I love how the less you want someone, the more they want you. Well, except when I'm on the wanting end of that deal.
Friday, March 18, 2011
'til death do us part
I often wonder about the wives of the men I dance for.
Do their wives know what they do in the evenings?
Do their wives know that some 22 year old is shoving her tits in their husband's face and grinding on his erect penis?
Do they know that their husbands are propositioning women to meet them at their hotels when they get off work?
Maybe they're ok with it. Perhaps they're involved in an open marriage. Maybe their wives have men on the side as well. They could be bitter and cold or have neglected their appearance and sex life altogether.
I know this probably isn't the case for most of these women. They probably have no idea. Would they be devastated if they knew?
I used to be angry at men, all men, for what they were doing. That anger has slowly faded to acceptance. I suppose in a similar vein as the stages of grief...even the depression that comes with the reality of what's going on is no longer present.
With that said, I did very well on Wednesday; made over $800. This month has been exceptional thus far.
Thank god for married men and their icequeen wives I suppose.
Do their wives know what they do in the evenings?
Do their wives know that some 22 year old is shoving her tits in their husband's face and grinding on his erect penis?
Do they know that their husbands are propositioning women to meet them at their hotels when they get off work?
Maybe they're ok with it. Perhaps they're involved in an open marriage. Maybe their wives have men on the side as well. They could be bitter and cold or have neglected their appearance and sex life altogether.
I know this probably isn't the case for most of these women. They probably have no idea. Would they be devastated if they knew?
I used to be angry at men, all men, for what they were doing. That anger has slowly faded to acceptance. I suppose in a similar vein as the stages of grief...even the depression that comes with the reality of what's going on is no longer present.
With that said, I did very well on Wednesday; made over $800. This month has been exceptional thus far.
Thank god for married men and their icequeen wives I suppose.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
relativity
After the greatness that was last week's income, this week has been a bit disappointing.
I've been stuck in the $400-$500/night range so far. Hopefully tomorrow night will break that trend.
Last night was dead, as mondays have been lately. Luckily my new strategy of giving the bouncers lots of money paid off, as one of them hooked me up with a vip. The vip was an asian man who spoke absolutely no english. It went well enough, but it was weird not being able to talk to my customer at all.
I had another guy who wanted me to look him in the eyes the whole time I danced. For 6 songs. I did, because I have no problem with eye contact, and he gave me $100.
I've decided that shopping is way more rewarding than relationships. I've spent over a grand in the last week on clothes and accessories!
I've been stuck in the $400-$500/night range so far. Hopefully tomorrow night will break that trend.
Last night was dead, as mondays have been lately. Luckily my new strategy of giving the bouncers lots of money paid off, as one of them hooked me up with a vip. The vip was an asian man who spoke absolutely no english. It went well enough, but it was weird not being able to talk to my customer at all.
I had another guy who wanted me to look him in the eyes the whole time I danced. For 6 songs. I did, because I have no problem with eye contact, and he gave me $100.
I've decided that shopping is way more rewarding than relationships. I've spent over a grand in the last week on clothes and accessories!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
On tipping in excess
I feel like crap this morning. Drank too much and did a bit too much coke last night, I guess.
There is good news, though. Last night was my third $700+ night in a row. Perfect timing, with spring break coming up.
We had 88 girls last night, it was insane. I was actually about to leave, then as I was tipping out a guy grabbed me. I sat down on his lap and 5 minutes later I was in vip with his whole group (4 guys and 4 girls total). Two bottles of champagne and lots of lines later I was $600 richer. At one point the guys were snorting lines off of our bodies, which seems so cliche, but it does happen.
I'm trying a new strategy at work regarding tipping. I'm just exorbitantly tipping everyone. I think I tipped the manager, both bouncers, and the housemom all an extra $20 last night on top of their regular tip out. So let's see: DJ got $80, house got $70, bouncers got $50, housemom got $20, bathroom mom got $10, and the valet got $10. That's a grand total of $240 tipped out. That means I made over a grand before tip out. Nice.
My spring break plans are slowly deteriorating, just as i figured they would. Originally we were supposed to go on a cruise. Then we realize one girl doesn't have a passport, so we can the cruise idea. Then we were just going to head down to florida for a few days. Got an email from one of the girls saying that she just can't afford it because her parents are making her pay her own rent this month. Haha, I remember the days of having to rely on my parents for shit and I fucking hated it. I wish my friends weren't so broke...I just need some adequately funded friends so I can vacation with them. That's all.
There is good news, though. Last night was my third $700+ night in a row. Perfect timing, with spring break coming up.
We had 88 girls last night, it was insane. I was actually about to leave, then as I was tipping out a guy grabbed me. I sat down on his lap and 5 minutes later I was in vip with his whole group (4 guys and 4 girls total). Two bottles of champagne and lots of lines later I was $600 richer. At one point the guys were snorting lines off of our bodies, which seems so cliche, but it does happen.
I'm trying a new strategy at work regarding tipping. I'm just exorbitantly tipping everyone. I think I tipped the manager, both bouncers, and the housemom all an extra $20 last night on top of their regular tip out. So let's see: DJ got $80, house got $70, bouncers got $50, housemom got $20, bathroom mom got $10, and the valet got $10. That's a grand total of $240 tipped out. That means I made over a grand before tip out. Nice.
My spring break plans are slowly deteriorating, just as i figured they would. Originally we were supposed to go on a cruise. Then we realize one girl doesn't have a passport, so we can the cruise idea. Then we were just going to head down to florida for a few days. Got an email from one of the girls saying that she just can't afford it because her parents are making her pay her own rent this month. Haha, I remember the days of having to rely on my parents for shit and I fucking hated it. I wish my friends weren't so broke...I just need some adequately funded friends so I can vacation with them. That's all.
Monday, March 7, 2011
a numbers game
Just as I had hoped, saturday was pretty good.
Early in the night, as I was getting done with my first stage set, a middle aged asian man called me over. I had a good feeling about him, so I went and sat down. He asked about vip right away. I told him the price was $200/half hr., and he balked a bit.
"I paid $150 the other night."
The way things work at my club is like so:
There is the room fee, which varies depending on the size of the room. All this money goes to the club. The room fee is $30/half hour for the smallest rooms, and goes up to $100/half hr for the largest room.
Then there is the tip for the waitress. I suppose this isn't absolutely necessary, but you do not want to be on the waitresses bad side, trust me. I usually tell the customers to give her $20/half hour, plus tip her on any drinks that we order.
Last, there's my money. I generally charge $200/half hr. I'll explain the generally in a second.
That makes the grand total $250 per half hr.
I still haven't found the best way to relay this information to the customer. Sometimes I tell them the total price, and deal with the breakdown after we're in the room, other times I tell them my price, and then mention that there's also a room fee. I bring up the waitresses tip after we're in the room. The reason I have a hard time with this is because I don't want the customer to feel like I'm scamming him by not telling him the full price, but I also want to make sure he knows that I'm not getting the full $250.
So anyways, I tell my customer the price is $200, figuring that I'll let him know about the room fee/waitress tip later. We get into the room and the waitress comes in. She asks for the $30 for the room, and he starts talking about how I told him it was going to be $200. The waitress tells him that is what he owes me, and the room is a separate $30. I can tell he's freaking out a bit so I tell him to hand me the $200 and I'll sort it out. I give the waitress her $30 and a $20 tip, which leaves me with $150.
Now, $150 is the minimum we can accept for vip, and I don't generally like doing it because most girls charge $200, and it's shitty to undercut. In this case, I bit my tongue and took it. Luckily he tipped me an extra $60 while we were in the room, so I ended up getting $210 for the room, but the waitress probably still thinks I'm one of those cheap girls.
We end up staying in the room for 2 hours. I end up with $700 after the two hours. Mostly because I also tipped the bouncer $60 for renewing a bunch of times, after we told him we'd only be in there for 30 minutes.
My vip was slightly annoying, but not too bad. He was really clingy, and didn't want me to leave the room because he didn't 'want other men to look at or touch me'. He also wanted me to play with his nipples for what felt like forever. Even though I've been doing this for over 3 years, I still feel like a bit of a weirdo sitting in a tiny room, playing with a middle aged asian man's nipples. I dunno.
I ended up netting a little over $800 for the night (after tipout), so that helped make up for the shittiness that was wednesday and thursday.
On another note, I'm not sure that ga tech kid is understanding that we're not together. I even called him again to re-affirm the fact that I was not interested in a relationship with him, but still got a friday night 'what are you doing text'. And then two saturday calls and a voicemail. And then a sunday morning movie invite. Also a sunday night 'what are you doing' text...So, I don't know.
I wonder if this general sense of annoyance I feel towards him is how the ex roommate felt about me. If so, I feel like a fucking retard.
Early in the night, as I was getting done with my first stage set, a middle aged asian man called me over. I had a good feeling about him, so I went and sat down. He asked about vip right away. I told him the price was $200/half hr., and he balked a bit.
"I paid $150 the other night."
The way things work at my club is like so:
There is the room fee, which varies depending on the size of the room. All this money goes to the club. The room fee is $30/half hour for the smallest rooms, and goes up to $100/half hr for the largest room.
Then there is the tip for the waitress. I suppose this isn't absolutely necessary, but you do not want to be on the waitresses bad side, trust me. I usually tell the customers to give her $20/half hour, plus tip her on any drinks that we order.
Last, there's my money. I generally charge $200/half hr. I'll explain the generally in a second.
That makes the grand total $250 per half hr.
I still haven't found the best way to relay this information to the customer. Sometimes I tell them the total price, and deal with the breakdown after we're in the room, other times I tell them my price, and then mention that there's also a room fee. I bring up the waitresses tip after we're in the room. The reason I have a hard time with this is because I don't want the customer to feel like I'm scamming him by not telling him the full price, but I also want to make sure he knows that I'm not getting the full $250.
So anyways, I tell my customer the price is $200, figuring that I'll let him know about the room fee/waitress tip later. We get into the room and the waitress comes in. She asks for the $30 for the room, and he starts talking about how I told him it was going to be $200. The waitress tells him that is what he owes me, and the room is a separate $30. I can tell he's freaking out a bit so I tell him to hand me the $200 and I'll sort it out. I give the waitress her $30 and a $20 tip, which leaves me with $150.
Now, $150 is the minimum we can accept for vip, and I don't generally like doing it because most girls charge $200, and it's shitty to undercut. In this case, I bit my tongue and took it. Luckily he tipped me an extra $60 while we were in the room, so I ended up getting $210 for the room, but the waitress probably still thinks I'm one of those cheap girls.
We end up staying in the room for 2 hours. I end up with $700 after the two hours. Mostly because I also tipped the bouncer $60 for renewing a bunch of times, after we told him we'd only be in there for 30 minutes.
My vip was slightly annoying, but not too bad. He was really clingy, and didn't want me to leave the room because he didn't 'want other men to look at or touch me'. He also wanted me to play with his nipples for what felt like forever. Even though I've been doing this for over 3 years, I still feel like a bit of a weirdo sitting in a tiny room, playing with a middle aged asian man's nipples. I dunno.
I ended up netting a little over $800 for the night (after tipout), so that helped make up for the shittiness that was wednesday and thursday.
On another note, I'm not sure that ga tech kid is understanding that we're not together. I even called him again to re-affirm the fact that I was not interested in a relationship with him, but still got a friday night 'what are you doing text'. And then two saturday calls and a voicemail. And then a sunday morning movie invite. Also a sunday night 'what are you doing' text...So, I don't know.
I wonder if this general sense of annoyance I feel towards him is how the ex roommate felt about me. If so, I feel like a fucking retard.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Sippy cup
My keyboard miraculously started working today. A lot of weird stuff has been going on in my apartment lately.
Work was terrible this week. Not just 'oh I only made $300 a night' terrible, but 'I made $160 on Wednesday and $87 on Thursday', terrible.
Last saturday was good, so hopefully this one will be too.
As I was applying my makeup in the dressing room last night I overheard a conversation between a few of my fellow strippers.
girl 1: "I spilled wine all over my new shorts on the car ride over here."
girl 2: "How'd you get away with having an open bottle of wine in the car?"
girl 1: "I hide my wine in my daughter's sippy cup, the cops would never think to look there."
girl #2 takes a swig from a gatorade bottle which she shook up a few times before drinking.
girl 2: "Yeah, I know what you mean."
It's exchanges like this that make me love work.
Do most of us suffer from some form of alcohol dependence?
Yeah, probably.
But at least there's this feeling of comaraderie. It's hard to explain, but no one will ever understand what it's like to be a stripper, except another stripper. Even though we're all so different, every one of us had that something that caused us to choose this profession; a profession that many people would not even consider an option.
Work was terrible this week. Not just 'oh I only made $300 a night' terrible, but 'I made $160 on Wednesday and $87 on Thursday', terrible.
Last saturday was good, so hopefully this one will be too.
As I was applying my makeup in the dressing room last night I overheard a conversation between a few of my fellow strippers.
girl 1: "I spilled wine all over my new shorts on the car ride over here."
girl 2: "How'd you get away with having an open bottle of wine in the car?"
girl 1: "I hide my wine in my daughter's sippy cup, the cops would never think to look there."
girl #2 takes a swig from a gatorade bottle which she shook up a few times before drinking.
girl 2: "Yeah, I know what you mean."
It's exchanges like this that make me love work.
Do most of us suffer from some form of alcohol dependence?
Yeah, probably.
But at least there's this feeling of comaraderie. It's hard to explain, but no one will ever understand what it's like to be a stripper, except another stripper. Even though we're all so different, every one of us had that something that caused us to choose this profession; a profession that many people would not even consider an option.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Oyster fest 2011
So, Sunday...
I'll start at the beginning; Oyster fest. Oyster fest is a festival held every year where oysters are eaten, alcohol is consumed, and music is listened to. I had never been to oyster fest before, so me and two faithful companions of mine decided to check it out.
We got there around 11:45, and much to our dismay, alcohol was not allowed to be served until 12:30. We decided to fill our sober time with oysters. We purchased a bucket and got to shucking. Now, I've never shucked an oyster before, and there were no instructional videos or seminars on oyster shucking, so we were left to our own devices.
Oysters don't taste that great. That's why people smother them with lemon juice, hot sauce, crackers, breading, etc. Even though they taste like snot textured ocean blobs I was determined to eat the little fuckers. Mostly because they are such a pain to get to. If I spend 10 minutes prying the little bivalve out of it's house, I'm definitely going to eat the little fucker, if only out of spite.
About halfway through our oyster bucket, 12:30 rolled around. Cue people cheering and running to the various alcohol vendors scattered about. We each got a bud light (1). I'm going to keep a running alcohol tab during this post, as this is important to understanding the crux of this story.
After we finished our oysters we decided to do a celebration shot of vodka (2).
We walked around a bit and chatted with some radio show guys and a dog rescue lady. THey were holding a raffle for the shelter dogs. I asked what the prize was and she said "a stay in the no kill shelter for the weekend." "..." "for the winner?" "No for the dog you sponser." Ok, that makes more sense. I didn't buy a ticket, but I did make a donation.
We decide it time for some more drinking, so we head to the bar. We order two long islands (one for me)(3), and a sex on the beach. I finish my long island pretty quickly and order another (4).
We decide to go exploring again. We run into some people we know. They were boring, so we head back to the bar. I order yet another long island (5). Some older folks start talking with us, and this one lady is taking pictures of me. At first I figure she's just taking pictures of her friends and I happen to be in the frame, but no. My friend informs me that she's taking pictures of me-my face-zoomed in and all. I guess she hears my friend mention this, and buys us all a shot (6).
We then join another group of younger people and do another shot (7). They tell us we should go hang out and party with them after the festival and...I don't really remember what we say, but somehow we get out of there.
We go up to the lawn where the band is playing and dance around. I remember feeling this older lady's fake boobs. I also remember getting another beer (8).
At this point things get start to get fuzzy. I think we met up with some people that we knew and I get one more long island (9). Then one of the guys from the group buys me a shot (10). I think that last shot is what did me in.
From this point on I'm just going off what my friends (who were trashed as well) told me.
I'm sitting on a bench talking to one of my friends when suddenly my head flops down. I guess I'm unresponsive to stimuli and some guy freaks out and yells to call an ambulance. Thus an ambulance is called. By the time the ambulance arrives I am awake but not feeling cooperative. I am fighting with the emts and refuse to get on the stretcher and into the vehicle. This prompts them to wrestle me onto the gurney and strap me down.
While this is going on, the friend I was talking with starts freaking out. Her freak out prompts the police to shove her to the ground and handcuff her. Of course a huge crowd has gathered at this point-to watch the crazy girl get strapped to the stretcher and the other crazy girl get handcuffed on the ground.
I do not remember the ride to the hospital, and none of my friends were allowed to ride in the back of the ambulance with me, so I'm just going to assume I had enlightening conversation with the emts about string theory or something.
When I get to the hospital and wake up I'm still not feeling cooperative. I decide to keep ripping out my IV, which causes my blood and saline solution to spray everywhere. I do this a few times, until my nurse proceeds to tape my whole arm up after inserting the IV, so that I cannot rip it out.
I keep requesting to talk with my doctor, and tell them they can't keep me here against my will for no reason. My nurse informs me that they just performed a blood test and my blood alcohol level is at a .37. My response, "clearly that's not high enough to put me in a coma or kill me, so why am I still here?"
My nurse (who was actually really cool for putting up with my obnoxious behavior) tells me that my doctor has issued me a 2320 (I don't remember the exact number), which basically means I can't leave on my own will because I'm psychologically unstable. Of course this infuriates me even further.
My one friend was with me in the hospital room the whole time, she ended up riding in the front of the ambulance, and she's crying. Of course I can't take anything seriously, so I keep laughing and joking about, which makes her even angier.
My other friend then shows up. She's pissed about being handcuffed and keeps ranting about the police. Apparently she walked three miles to get to the hospital where I'm located.
We're there for however many hours before the doctor finally tells me that if I can find someone sober to come drive us home, I can leave.
One of my friends calls this guy she's seeing, and he agrees to pick us up. They make him sign a release form saying that if I die it's his fault (probably didn't say exactly that), and I apologize to my nurse for being annoying and getting blood all over the place.
I can't wait for oyster fest next year!
I'll start at the beginning; Oyster fest. Oyster fest is a festival held every year where oysters are eaten, alcohol is consumed, and music is listened to. I had never been to oyster fest before, so me and two faithful companions of mine decided to check it out.
We got there around 11:45, and much to our dismay, alcohol was not allowed to be served until 12:30. We decided to fill our sober time with oysters. We purchased a bucket and got to shucking. Now, I've never shucked an oyster before, and there were no instructional videos or seminars on oyster shucking, so we were left to our own devices.
Oysters don't taste that great. That's why people smother them with lemon juice, hot sauce, crackers, breading, etc. Even though they taste like snot textured ocean blobs I was determined to eat the little fuckers. Mostly because they are such a pain to get to. If I spend 10 minutes prying the little bivalve out of it's house, I'm definitely going to eat the little fucker, if only out of spite.
About halfway through our oyster bucket, 12:30 rolled around. Cue people cheering and running to the various alcohol vendors scattered about. We each got a bud light (1). I'm going to keep a running alcohol tab during this post, as this is important to understanding the crux of this story.
After we finished our oysters we decided to do a celebration shot of vodka (2).
We walked around a bit and chatted with some radio show guys and a dog rescue lady. THey were holding a raffle for the shelter dogs. I asked what the prize was and she said "a stay in the no kill shelter for the weekend." "..." "for the winner?" "No for the dog you sponser." Ok, that makes more sense. I didn't buy a ticket, but I did make a donation.
We decide it time for some more drinking, so we head to the bar. We order two long islands (one for me)(3), and a sex on the beach. I finish my long island pretty quickly and order another (4).
We decide to go exploring again. We run into some people we know. They were boring, so we head back to the bar. I order yet another long island (5). Some older folks start talking with us, and this one lady is taking pictures of me. At first I figure she's just taking pictures of her friends and I happen to be in the frame, but no. My friend informs me that she's taking pictures of me-my face-zoomed in and all. I guess she hears my friend mention this, and buys us all a shot (6).
We then join another group of younger people and do another shot (7). They tell us we should go hang out and party with them after the festival and...I don't really remember what we say, but somehow we get out of there.
We go up to the lawn where the band is playing and dance around. I remember feeling this older lady's fake boobs. I also remember getting another beer (8).
At this point things get start to get fuzzy. I think we met up with some people that we knew and I get one more long island (9). Then one of the guys from the group buys me a shot (10). I think that last shot is what did me in.
From this point on I'm just going off what my friends (who were trashed as well) told me.
I'm sitting on a bench talking to one of my friends when suddenly my head flops down. I guess I'm unresponsive to stimuli and some guy freaks out and yells to call an ambulance. Thus an ambulance is called. By the time the ambulance arrives I am awake but not feeling cooperative. I am fighting with the emts and refuse to get on the stretcher and into the vehicle. This prompts them to wrestle me onto the gurney and strap me down.
While this is going on, the friend I was talking with starts freaking out. Her freak out prompts the police to shove her to the ground and handcuff her. Of course a huge crowd has gathered at this point-to watch the crazy girl get strapped to the stretcher and the other crazy girl get handcuffed on the ground.
I do not remember the ride to the hospital, and none of my friends were allowed to ride in the back of the ambulance with me, so I'm just going to assume I had enlightening conversation with the emts about string theory or something.
When I get to the hospital and wake up I'm still not feeling cooperative. I decide to keep ripping out my IV, which causes my blood and saline solution to spray everywhere. I do this a few times, until my nurse proceeds to tape my whole arm up after inserting the IV, so that I cannot rip it out.
I keep requesting to talk with my doctor, and tell them they can't keep me here against my will for no reason. My nurse informs me that they just performed a blood test and my blood alcohol level is at a .37. My response, "clearly that's not high enough to put me in a coma or kill me, so why am I still here?"
My nurse (who was actually really cool for putting up with my obnoxious behavior) tells me that my doctor has issued me a 2320 (I don't remember the exact number), which basically means I can't leave on my own will because I'm psychologically unstable. Of course this infuriates me even further.
My one friend was with me in the hospital room the whole time, she ended up riding in the front of the ambulance, and she's crying. Of course I can't take anything seriously, so I keep laughing and joking about, which makes her even angier.
My other friend then shows up. She's pissed about being handcuffed and keeps ranting about the police. Apparently she walked three miles to get to the hospital where I'm located.
We're there for however many hours before the doctor finally tells me that if I can find someone sober to come drive us home, I can leave.
One of my friends calls this guy she's seeing, and he agrees to pick us up. They make him sign a release form saying that if I die it's his fault (probably didn't say exactly that), and I apologize to my nurse for being annoying and getting blood all over the place.
I can't wait for oyster fest next year!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)