Name: Jay-pee

Age: 22

My girlfriend and I went to a party at a friend of a friend of hers. At the time I had a strong liking for consuming as much Absolut Vodka as I possibly could, and I made sure that I always brought a .75 liter bottle to every party so I’d not run out (which would be a disaster).

Although since then I’ve stopped this behavior as this culminated into a near death experience after a party with the very same people.

I got home from work and we went to this girls apartment and started drinking. The plan was to socialize for a little while before heading downtown. I actually don’t recall much of what happened after we entered the apartment which actually is kind of sad.

Next thing I know I wake up in my own stairwell in a pool of vomit (you know the crystal clear kind which you get from not eating anything but drinking a lot). The alcohol hits you like a freight train which would explain why I don’t remember more than roughly a half an hour from starting the quick pace drinking.

Anyways, I got out of the pool of vomit grabbing my apartment door. Locked! I think, what the hell, did my girlfriend lock me out? I jerked the door handle for a while, banging on the door and rang the bell. After a good while of getting myself very drunk-upset I notice that it’s not my name on the door. Huh!?

My intoxicated brain finally understood that I’m not in my building. I go outside and find that I’m at one of the doors next to my building. I go to my apartment, you know the one that actually has my name on the sign, and unlock the door. It’s a bit funny that I had the key but I didn’t try to unlock the door where I woke up in the vomit.

My girlfriend is nowhere to be found, yet it’s the middle of the night.

I stagger back outside and notice her sitting behind the wheel of the car, passed out. I go to her and ask her what the hell she’s doing behind the wheel. I also notice that the key is in the ignition. I grab the key and she says that she was looking for me and sat down in the car. Erm…

We go back up and sleep it off.

The next morning I head to the gas station and notice a big dent on the front right fender!!! I confront my girlfriend which of course says she didn’t do it (as if she’d remember).

She also tells me that I got really fucked up at the party, but I’m not an obnoxious guy. When they were going down town they realized that I wasn’t going to be let in at any clubs so the designated driver and the rest of the guys had dropped me off at home, and apparently at the wrong entrance.

They also said that I was a bitch to get into the car, cause I didn’t want to and that I was strong as an ox. I’m a fairly tall guy, 192 cm and its not easy to move me around. They (4 guys) had carried me and I had the bruising to back it up. I also had fallen down the stairs when they tried to carry me down, and I had a really sore shoulder for about a month after this.

Another one of the girls cute blond with quite a big rack (you know the big and firm ones which remotely could have passed as similar to my girlfriends…not!) had somehow ended up in a bedroom with me. She had told my girlfriends friend that I had felt her up and called her by my girls name. OK, that’s not so bad, I sort of got off the hook by saying “hey, you can’t be mad, I apparently thought it was you”, but I strongly doubt it, as I always liked her looks.

I regret my not recalling the last part…

You my friend might just be in the running for alcoholic of the month. “Sorry baby I thought the double D’s I was squeezing belonged to you”.  I like your moves Jay-pee.