lol girl I don't fuck with tequila anymore either. Had it twice and and got too turnt both times, the second time I blacked out and woke up puking. Never the fuck again that is not how I like to party. It was someone else's idea and I will NOT BE TOLD WHAT TO DRINK anymore. fuck that devil water. shit's made out of demons.
Please sit down while auntie jules tells you a story.
So way back when. . . back in the days when I was in the navy, I was stationed in some fucked up area of california where pretty much all the winter months were so foggy that you couldn’t see one foot in front of you. I’m not exaggerating. So this meant that our pilots couldn’t fly. Well, they could because the fog only went up so high, but they couldn’t like taxi or anything.
So for a month, we moved our whole squadron pretty much to this shit hole called El Centro. See? The name elicits dry heaves, right? There is nothing to do in El Centro but to work and drink. . .and that is what we did.
At home we kept the squadron running with 3 8 hour shift but in El Centro, we did 2 12s. So we came in at like, the ass crack of dawn and left when it was dark. We when to our barracks, took a shower, maybe ate, went to happy hour that lasted all night every night including week days, got maybe an hour of sleep if we were lucky, then went to work and was mustered up for FOD walkdown. Maybe times people puked during fodwalk.
Interesting thing about the base club at El Centro. The military likes to keep the ranks separated by having like an enlisted club, then maybe an NCO club, a cheif’s club, and officers club. El Centro had one club. Everyone from the lowly e-1 to the base commander partied there. And wow our skipper could really cut up.
All of this info really had nothing to do with the story other than to I dunno, maybe set up the scene.
So at the end of this one El Centro detachment, we had a squadron picnic. Now, I felt my alcohol tolerance was pretty high because I was doing 10+ shots a night for almost 30 days so when someone passed me the bottle of nasty ass jose cuervo gold, I thought I could handle it. Ummm. . .
I really didn’t know that house tequila at a club is pretty much. . . .water so the 1/3 of the bottle of the tequila probably was close to giving me alcohol poisoning. So I remember feeling sick and telling one of my friends. She probably saved my life because she stuck her whole fucking hand down my throat and made me puke. I thought that was the end of that but it seemed obligatory that I go get a hamburger because our commanding officer was manning the grill. . .I don’t remember but I puked all over that i’m told.
I don’t remember anything after the hand down my throat but I’m told that they called the duty driver to take my ass home. I don’t remember that ride. I don’t know how I got to my room. It was 5 floors up and there was no elevator. I don’t remember how ALL the walls in my room got covered in puke. They said I did it and I sort of believed it because my diaphragm never hurt so much in my life. I couldn’t laugh, cough, or inhale too hard for a good week.
So when we got back home to Lemoore. . .everyone called me tequila sunset. Because my ass was out and sent home before the sun even set at the squadron picnic. Til this day, I can’t even smell tequila without getting dry heaves and my diaphragm having phantom pains.