Deciphering Last Night’s Drunken Deeds

Deciphering Last Night's Drunken Deeds
So then…I fumble for the washcloth through bleary eyes. My head’s throbbing as I soap up my arm, my chest, my breast – hey, what is this? What’s this big black mark on my boob?

I squint and bring my wobbly head closer to my left breast. I scrub harder but the black mark isn’t disappearing! What the hell? How’d my boob get so dirty and why isn’t it getting clean?

As the shower spray pounds my head like a thousand jackhammers, I have sudden flashes of last night’s escapades:

Dark nightclub
Loud music
Live band
Drinking
LOTS of drinking
Dancing – was I dancing?

I finish the shower post-haste, trying to shampoo tenderly, but each touch is torment.

I open the medicine cabinet for Tylenol, but it’s my brother’s house and apparently he and his wife keep their hangover cures elsewhere.

We’re all in our 20s – and they love to party, so I know they have hangover cures somewhere.

I stumble into the guest bedroom and paw through my suitcase for clothes. My business trip was fairly close to their Dallas home so I had hopped over for the weekend. They took me out last night – and I recall having a blast – but the details are…sketchy.

I walk into the kitchen, bypassing my brother Dan, and go straight to his wife Shelby, baring my bosom. “What the hell is this?” I ask.

“Ohhhh,” she says, laughing. “That’s the autograph!”

“The autograph? It wouldn’t come off!” I say. “Is it written in Sharpie?”

“Yes, I think he did sign in Sharpie,” she confirms, giggling. Dan snickers.

“‘He?’” I ask. “Who the hell signed my boob!?”

“The Hood!” they say in unison.

Ahhh, yes. The Hood. Suddenly a memory flashes. One of the band members!

“The bass player?” I ask. They nod.

Now I remember that Dan and Shelby took me to see one of their favorite local bands last night. They are a really great band and the whole club was rockin’. The Hood wore a black hood that completely hid his face, sort of like this:
Deciphering (Hood Photo)

I sit down and pour some cereal. “Do you have Tylenol?”

Shelby joins us at the table with the Tylenol and her coffee and says teasingly, “You really liked him, Darcy.”

“Yeah,” I say, smiling. “He was so sexy.”

“How can you tell?” asks my brother. “He wears a hood.”

“Yeah, but he’s tall and thin – and dressed all in black leather – and you could see that his hair was a little long under his hood,” I say. “Plus he’s an amazing bass player!”

“Yeah,” says Shelby. “Lots of girls love this band. The lead singer’s really good looking and so is the drummer – but most girls like The Hood ‘cause he’s so mysterious. He never takes the hood off.”

“I bet he’s gorgeous,” I say dreamily.

Dan scoffs. “Gorgeous? I don’t think he’s wearing a hood ‘cause he’s gorgeous.”

“Well, maybe he has a day job like a doctor or a lawyer or something – and he doesn’t want his patients or clients to know he’s in a rock band,” I say hopefully.

“No,” says Dan. “It’s probably ‘cause he’s hideous – but he’s a great bass player, so the other band members are like, ‘yeah, you can be in the band, Ted, but you gotta cover that shit up.’”

“No way!” I say defensively.

“And I doubt he’s a doctor,” says Dan. “Maybe he wears the hood ‘cause he’s a fugitive from America’s Most Wanted.”

“What?” I say, alarmed. “You let some deviant sign your little sister’s boob?”

They laugh. “I didn’t know you were gonna do that!” he says. “You and Shelby went to meet the band on their break. I was still at our table.”

I whirl on Shelby, which sends a rush of pain to my head. I pop two Tylenol. “Shelby, clearly I was plastered! Why’d you let me do that?”

Dan interjects. “‘Cause she was plastered too. We all were!”

Shelby says, “Well, lots of people were asking for their autographs. But you didn’t have any paper, so when you asked The Hood, you just whipped out your boob and told him to sign there!”

I blush bright red. “Omigod! How embarrassing!!”

They laugh at me.

“I don’t even remember that happening!” I say. “When was that?”

Dan thinks a moment and says to Shelby, “Was that before she danced with that cowboy?”

“I danced with a cowboy?” I say.

“Nah, I think it was after she drank champagne out of her shoe,” says Shelby.

“What?”

“Yeah,” says Shelby. “You can tell we were smashed ‘cause we started with beer and wine, then shots, then champagne.”

“Oh, man, I only remember the wine part,” I say. I curl my lip at the idea of drinking anything out of my high heel. How unsanitary!

Shelby laughs. “Oh, you were having a good time last night! Drinking and dancing! I can’t remember exactly when you got your boob signed, though.”

Dan says, “Was it before or after she threw up in her shoe?”

“WHAT!?” I shout. “I threw up? In my shoe?”

They both laugh again. “Yep!” says my brother.

“And you mean to tell me there was a ‘before’ and an ‘after’ to my throwing up? How could there be an AFTER? Why wouldn’t you take me straight home if I THREW UP?”

“It’s a really great band,” says my brother, shrugging.

Oh my good God.

I vow to never drink again.

And to burn my shoes immediately.

Regrettably, I break both those promises.

— Darcy Perdu

(Ever offer your lady parts for an autograph? Why do you think The Hood wore a hood? Please share a funny story from your drunken days so I can feel better about myself!)

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43 replies on “Deciphering Last Night’s Drunken Deeds

    • Thank you, Jane, thank you. I think you are EXACTLY right!

    • Ha! I’m happy to report that Sharpie DOES eventually come off your skin. I’m just glad we didn’t end up in a tattoo parlor for that autograph!

      (And P.S. I know this is just your excuse to see my boobies, Kristi. Jeez, how many titty shots do I have to DM to you?)

  1. Oh Darcy, you crazy lady! Lol. I’m glad that I was a wildman in the days long before cell phone cameras and FB checkins. I always prefer the mystery of not knowing exactly what I did. I did once give up beer because I thought I could lose weight by drinking vodka and juice instead. I started this plan on new year’s eve as a resolution. I apparently polished off most, if not all, of a bottle of Absolute and woke up naked on my living room floor with pictures of penises and boobs and all sorts of other graffiti all over my body, courtesy of my brother and his lady friend. I wish I could say that this was a long long time ago, but that would be a fib. I switched back to beer Jan. 2nd of that year. Lol.
    donofalltrades recently posted..We could use to hear more about everyday heroes, even tragic ones…My Profile

    • Oh, Don! I only had “The Hood” scribbled on my person — only YOU would be covered with boobs and penises (peni? not sure of the plural) LOL

  2. Paul said:

    Funny post Darcy! I can easily imagine that happening – and, as you noticed, drinking with buddies is no guarantee that they will rescue you – often they are depending on you to rescue them! As far as drinking stories of my own – so very many and so little space and time! Ha! As a long haul trucker, I would get laid over for days or sometimes weeks and then work non-stop for a week or more. This encouraged binge drinking during down times and as a consequence I’ve been drunk in most of the major cities in North America, with varying outcomes. I recall tying one on in the small Dallas suburb of Mesquite, Texas. My drinking buddy was a fellow driver from Mississippi whom I had just met. We got well lubricated and I retired to my truck to sleep it off. (The owner of the company I leased to, once commented that they had put the company name on the bottom of the trailer mudflaps so when I was crawling back to the truck, the name would be at eye level.) The next morning there was a banging at my truck door and there was my “friend” from the night before. I got up and we stood between the trucks as he explained that he had just gotten back from jail. Apparently after I went to bed, he continued on and propositioned a young lady at the bar who turned out to be an undercover cop. In Mesquite it is illegal to even proposition a woman, so off he went to sleep it off in jail and get a ticket. As he leaned against his truck, he pulled out the ticket and showed me. It was a hefty fine. At the same time I couldn’t help but notice the signs all over his truck that read “Truckin’ For Jesus”. I asked him if maybe he should have them changed to “Truckin’ To Beat Jesus”. He didn’t think that was funny. I guess humour is a personal thing.

    • Ha! Yes indeedy, humor IS a personal thing!
      Pretty funny about the mudflap comment from your company owner!

  3. Keyla said:

    Hahaha, that is an awesome story!

    My best hangover story was recently…. I’m in my early 30s and I’ve never really let loose with drinking before, I’ve always been the designated driver… well we had a big ladies night out at my parents’ acreage and since everyone was staying the night I was able to drink. My mother took full advantage of me being there “Oh K, can you take Roofus into your room tonight since you’ll have to get up for your dogs anyways?” Sure….
    6AM, I wake up and I feel just awful. And the dogs want to go outside. I finally get myself to a standing position and have to hang onto every wall and railing available just to get 20 feet through the house to let the hounds outside. I sit down outside for a few minutes while the dogs to their thing, go back inside, swallow a whole bottle of water and some tylenol and crash for another few hours. When I got up a few hours later I told everyone about my “ear ache” – I was so off balance, it must have been an inner ear thing! I swear! hahaha

    • Oh no — Dogs should be polite enough to hold their pee on the hangover mornings! Ha!

  4. Julie said:

    DARCY!!

    I hope you threw up in your shoe AFTER you drank out of it, and not the other way around!

    I was thinking tattoo also, so happy to know you didn’t make a permanent boob boo boo!

    I am also certain the Hood was drop dead gorgeous under there too. Obviously.

    I cannot share a drunken embarrassing story, there are too many and I can’t pick just one.

    • lol “permanent boob boo boo!”
      and yes, I’m hoping the same thing about the shoe!! :o)

  5. EHMAHGERD!!! LMAO!! sooo funny! Oh God, I have a drunk story I’ll have to email you. It’s too hilariousawful to put out in public. I once considered publishing it for Stephanie at crazymeetsexhaustion for her oversharing piece, but I’m not brave enough! maybe someday….or maybe this one should stay behind closed doors.

    • lol! Can’t wait to see it when you email me!! Hope there are photos attached! ha!

    • I’ve heard that about bass players too! But ah, they’re so damn sexy! :o)

  6. William Kendall said:

    I’m falling about laughing!

    Of course, one of these days you must relate that story to your daughter just to see the look on her face.

    Hmmm, let’s see… I say the Hood keeps his face masked because he’s scarred- and not in a Gerard “Is My Face Really That Hideous” Butler in the Phantom of the Opera way. No, it’s scarred in a way that you could use it as a road map to figure out your way through Hell’s Kitchen kind of way.

    • Hmm, scars? I hadn’t even thought of that! Let’s say it’s a sexy scar on his right cheek from a sword duel when he was protecting a lady’s honor. Yes, let’s go with that.

  7. My worst drunken escapade also happened in my 20’s.
    I was in a bowling league with my (then) fiance and several of our coworkers. The bar in the bowling alley was running a special price on Apple Pucker shots. One of my friends offered to buy me a drink, but I couldn’t have any say in the drink of choice. I agreed and he brought me a giant soda cup with “a couple pucker shots in sprite”.

    A couple turned out to be $10 worth, at a buck a shot!
    I drank it, ended up napping for a bit, and woke up feeling the urge to vomit. My friend caught my vomit in the empty cup I’d left nearby!

    Feeling better, we all headed to Denny’s. I managed to drink a cup of coffee and have something to eat, before deciding I needed to get home and start to sleep this off.
    I forgot how to roll down the window of my friend’s car and puked (again!) half in and half out of his window.

    I passed out walking up the stairs to my apartment. My fiance came home, saw me on the stairs and LEFT ME THERE!, he did bring me a blanket to cover up with.

    Apple Punker is the DEVIL!
    Rea recently posted..Snarky Bitch vs my logic and math-impaired sonMy Profile

    • Ha! “I forgot how to roll down the window of my friend’s car” — so funny how our inebriated brains forget simple tasks — and gravity! Apple Pucker shots DO sound like the devil! I once had a similar situation with the deceptively sweet and tasty ouzo. Yowza!

    • Ha! Good point, Max! I can’t think of a single funny salad story!

  8. Bea said:

    I’ve accumulated a handful of good drunk stories, but a particularly funny one happened about a year and a half ago, when I was in Miami for a work conference. Most of us at the conference were in our early-mid 20’s, so naturally we all went out drinking on the first night there. The first bar we stopped at had an “all you can drink for $20” deal. I was probably a little too determined to get the most out of my $20, because my memories of the rest of the night are vague. I remember going to another bar with some kind of deal on Jello shots, and I remember that the way they showed you qualified for this deal was by stamping your hand with the words “Jello shots” in black ink. I remember smacking my head on the ceiling of the cab and thinking “Wow, cool, that didn’t even hurt!” To this day I do NOT remember what happened to my left shoe, but I never saw it again.

    Three hours after we arrived back at the hotel, it was time to get up for a day of meetings. I had a splitting headache, both from the hangover and from my little bump that “didn’t even hurt,” which had blossomed into a good-size throbbing goose egg, though it was fortunately hidden by my hair. What was NOT hidden by my hair was the giant “Jello shots” stamp on my right hand, which refused to wash off no matter how hard I scrubbed.

    I suffered through the day of meetings and lectures, managing to avoid attracting any attention to my hand. But that night, during the formal company dinner, I was called up to be recognized for my three years of service to the company, meaning that the CEO was going to present me with a Starbucks gift card and SHAKE MY HAND in front of 100+ people!

    I smiled as widely and brightly as I could, hoping he’d look at my face, not my hand, and turned my hand toward the ground as much as I could without being too obvious. He didn’t say anything, so I’m hoping he didn’t see anything!

    • Oh, Bea, I was laughing along through your whole story! A little hard to hide the shenanigans of the previous night when you’re sporting a goose egg on your head and a “Jello Shots” stamp on your hand! It would’ve been hilarious if the CEO sported a similar stamp when he shook your hand! Ha!

  9. OMG this is beyond hilarious and I can SO totally relate. Once, I asked why there was green underneath my fingernails (a chicken avocado sandwich from Dennys at 3am) and my roommate at the time said “remember? we went out to eat and that’s when you smacked TJ!” I was like wait, who is TJ? And I smacked him??? OMG. I, too, drank again.

    • HA! green underneath your fingernails? hilarious! the morning afters are chock full of little clues of our misdeeds of the night before!

  10. Now THAT is funny! How long ago was this escapade?

    • Back in my carefree cowboy-dancing, shoe-vomiting 20’s!

  11. My one birthday in my 20’s I went out drinking with friends. I woke up in a strange bed. First thing I did, was check that I had clothes on, which fortunately I did. I was in a friend’s parents’ house in the guest bedroom so it all turned out alright. The things they say I did were probably exaggerated or at least I hope so. Never had a body part signed though.
    Vivian Pitschlitz recently posted..Literally?My Profile

    • Ha! Checked that your clothes were on — good thinking!

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  13. Caitlin said:

    One of the college drunk stories that I actually remember involved drinking cheap champagne through a straw, and then refusing to let people into a party unless they could prove they weren’t vampires. Because, you know, if you invite them in, you render yourself powerless against them according to the Lost Boys. I ended the night kicking my then boyfriend in the stomach for kissing another girl and my roommate’s boyfriend had to help me take my contacts out because I had no coordination at that point.
    A totally non-related drunken night involved letting one of the Johns from They Might Be Giants sign my underwear. I was older and allegedly wiser at the time. I still have the undies, btw.

    • Ha! Love this! Your vampire logic makes absolute sense! The contacts-removing operation sounds challenging! And I love that you still have the autographed undies from They Might Be Giants!!

  14. LOL that’s insane- how long did it take to wear off?? I hope he was worth it, did you ever see what he looked like without the hoodie? Man Myspace him (since he’s a musician :P). Drinking is fun in moderation kiddo haha glad you had a blast with your brother and his wife! Have a great one Darcy! -Iva
    AwesomelyOZ recently posted..GTFO: Today is February 25th, 2006My Profile

    • Ha – my boobie-autograph lasted several days! I never did get to see “beneath the mask” — perhaps it’s best to romanticize what might have been…

  15. Reindlgator said:

    Hey Darcy. I guess I must have actually learned my lesson, because I have only had one drunken night of stupidity. I was celebrating New Year’s that was becoming 1999. My friend had that damn Prince song “1999” on a loop and I still can’t hear it without feeling the urge to heave. After too much tequila and a round or two of barfing, my boyfriend (now husband) took me to his parents’ home since it was just around the block. I crashed out on his brother’s bunk bed and fell asleep. A few hours later I wake up and feel fine, so I walk across the hall to the bathroom. Uh oh, the cold sweats start and I try to make it back to the bedroom, which is literally three steps from the bath. All I remember was blacking out and headbutting the door’s poster of Arnold Scwarzenegger as the Terminator. I came to quickly on the floor and I caught the smell of cigarette smoke, which could only mean that my future father-in-law was awake in the house somewhere. In my crazed state, I knew it probably would not bode well for my relationship to have him find his son’s girlfriend passed out in his hallway. I dragged myself into the bedroom and slept it off. The next day I had a lovely bruise on my forehead inflicted by the Terminator himself. It took me almost ten years before I could even smell tequila again. Now I am a complete tequila snob. I later shared this story with my in-laws and he loved it. I sure do miss him, but he would agree no happy story ever begins with “well, we were doing tequila shots…”

    • LOL — I LOVE that you were “punched” by Arnold the Terminator!! So funny!

  16. That’s a great story. And I would have been all about the masked man too. Sadly I don’t think my boobs are impressive enough to offer up for an autograph.

    My most recent ridiculous drinking story involved me challenging the neighbor to a wrestling match (while a dozen or so neighbors were watching an outdoor movie) after drinking ridiculous amounts of wine. So there she and I were–she was kicking my ass–wrestling while Animal House played in the background. I had some pretty serious bruises the next day. And, of course, there was video. SMH…
    Foxy Wine Pocket recently posted..From the Toddler Files: 5 Pro-Tips for Dealing with Your HellionMy Profile

    • ha! I LOVE that! What a hilarious image of you winos wrestling in the glow of the Animal House movie screening!