I know I had my “game over” post but I really think it’s a good idea to give anyone who reads this an understanding of what I put myself through each weekend and why game over posts tend to occur. I can’t really speak for last Friday because I passed out at 10:30 after losing 7-1 in beer pong to the Wagon. We play 2 beers a game and I think we played for 2-3 hours straight with overtimes involved. The two of us ended up killing a 30 pack. I made a rookie mistake and didn’t eat any dinner which played poorly on the longevity of the night. This goes hand in hand with going out on Thursday and probably having 7 beers and a mind eraser. When that much alcohol is consumed, my stomach doesn’t want to eat food and thus messes me up for the next day. I have to process all the liquid first and then anything I can fit in my stomach is usually not much. This brings me to Saturday and the demise of my self. I woke up feeling fine after a good nights sleep from passing out early.
On Saturday, my drinking begun at 2:30 for the start of the Flyers game. I think I had 4-5 beers during the game. Then I had 3 twisted teas and 2 IPA’s from a specialty case I bought earlier. I almost like the twisted teas as they are a change from beer even though I don’t really feel like a man for drinking them. At this time it’s probably 8pm and I’ve had around 10 drinks spaced well throughout the day. My eating was fairly minimal during this time. A few people came over and I would guess that I had 6 or so beers during the drinking games we played for 2 hours. Then I did 2 beer bongs, lost both to girls, and had some shot mixed in there. At this point it’s 11 and it’s time to go to the bar. I’m obviously pretty buzzed at this point but still functioning. I remember trying to get some bike race tickets from this bartender I’ve met a few times and she was trying to charge me full price so I wasn’t having that. I ended up getting 2 single rum and cokes from here and decided to change my ways. After that I starting getting Double’s from Lauren and that is the end of the night for me. Chad said I wasn’t home by 1:45 and I’m sure I was pounding drinks throughout the process. This is in no way bragging about how much alcohol I consume but probably more like a cry for help. I drank for 12 hours straight, no breaks, constant drinking and somehow made it back safe. I probably did some things to embarrass myself in those last few hours but I honestly can’t remember so I’m not too worried about it. I also somehow have acquired about 10 bike race tickets through my fascination with the bartender and seeing how many I can get.
I wake up on Sunday feeling like death. My motor skills are in question as I’m stammering around the living room and finding it difficult to sit on the couch properly. My stomach is filled with liquid and there is no food consumption possible at this point. This feeling lasted me the whole day as I was only able to down 2 hot dogs and a half a cheese steak for the entire day. I was alive while playing golf but to say I can bring my A game under those conditions is laughable. A side note, I did get a new driver and some of the distance on those drives would rival some pros. I played about mid 90 golf but shot a 103 with two 9’s and a ten on 3 of the last 5 holes.
The feeling of terribleness doesn’t leave on Monday either. This is more than a 24 hours recovery time from that much alcohol. I didn’t have any breakfast and then ate half of a salad for lunch, 3 waffles for dinner. Finally at 11pm today I was able to put down a some real food. That is what I put myself through most weekends. There is no good that comes from it only the pain and suffering and wondering why I do such a thing to my body. So when you read this understand that I’m not your usual drinker who can have 6-12 beers and call it a night. My problems lie far and beyond the scope of most people. When you see game over posts, I’m not referring to my life as finishing but my mental capacity is not there. I write this so if you see me in one of these drunken binges, most likely you aren’t seeing the real me but an out of control teetotaler who finds nothing better to do with his free time than drink. Sad but true.