Sloshed, Smashed and Soused - Part 3: That's Not a Kick
I was able to sleep for five minutes. Before I crashed I had made plans with my friends. Café Du Monde I said, iced coffees and beignets I said. A phone call woke me, and after a moment of recovery, I found my pants, buckled my belt, put my shoes on and went downstairs.
One friend, Larry, was not pleased. The night had been long, and the last thing he wanted was to extend it further, presumably wanting to sleep instead. He made this clear, not by saying so, but by pouting.
I was too drunk to notice, nor do I think Seijin or Mike really did either. So we sat in a little room at the café and waited for our order, not really saying much of anything due to the extensive amount of alcohol we consumed.
At some point, without really thinking about it, I crossed my leg and accidentally scraped Larry’s pants. Already in a bad mood, he asked why I kicked him. I responded "That's not a kick," then I lifted my right leg and struck his shin bone, "This is me kicking you."
Larry was pissed and annoyed, walking off with the only key to the room that the three of them shared. Unable to track down where Larry went, we ate our food then took me back to my room. It would be another two hours before Seijin and Mike would get to do the same.
I slept for more than ten hours. Another phone call woke me up and the sunlight coming through the window burned my eyes. I realized I was still drunk and went back to sleep.
By the time I woke up again it was already getting dark. I called up Martha. My voice was hoarse, my body ached, but I wanted to see her and she gave me an address to a bar in the Warehouse district where we could meet.
I invited Mike to join and we got into a cab. We arrived at the bar soon after, but I lacked the desire to drink. But, being in a bar, I did anyway. We grabbed some beers and made our way over to Martha and her friends, her five male friends surrounding her.
Very quickly I realized this was a mistake. Mike mocked me as we played a few games of pool, then we headed back to the French Quarter, where sober, tired and dispirited, we ended up gambling at Harrah's Casino.
One friend, Larry, was not pleased. The night had been long, and the last thing he wanted was to extend it further, presumably wanting to sleep instead. He made this clear, not by saying so, but by pouting.
I was too drunk to notice, nor do I think Seijin or Mike really did either. So we sat in a little room at the café and waited for our order, not really saying much of anything due to the extensive amount of alcohol we consumed.
At some point, without really thinking about it, I crossed my leg and accidentally scraped Larry’s pants. Already in a bad mood, he asked why I kicked him. I responded "That's not a kick," then I lifted my right leg and struck his shin bone, "This is me kicking you."
Larry was pissed and annoyed, walking off with the only key to the room that the three of them shared. Unable to track down where Larry went, we ate our food then took me back to my room. It would be another two hours before Seijin and Mike would get to do the same.
I slept for more than ten hours. Another phone call woke me up and the sunlight coming through the window burned my eyes. I realized I was still drunk and went back to sleep.
By the time I woke up again it was already getting dark. I called up Martha. My voice was hoarse, my body ached, but I wanted to see her and she gave me an address to a bar in the Warehouse district where we could meet.
I invited Mike to join and we got into a cab. We arrived at the bar soon after, but I lacked the desire to drink. But, being in a bar, I did anyway. We grabbed some beers and made our way over to Martha and her friends, her five male friends surrounding her.
Very quickly I realized this was a mistake. Mike mocked me as we played a few games of pool, then we headed back to the French Quarter, where sober, tired and dispirited, we ended up gambling at Harrah's Casino.
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