The Hangover, Part IV
So this weekend, we all decided to have a great time and go on a 90s bar crawl. What could possibly go wrong? I wish what happened next was fiction. But, I have the scratches and bruises to prove it.
We start drinking at the apartment. Casual, just some friends. Nothing too crazy. We go to the first bar, the second bar, where Agnes, Sterling and Margo appear. No problems. Chill evening really. Then comes the spiral.
At the third bar, things start to go wrong. Some randos are trying to take Sterling and Agnes’ phones because they are convinced that is where the music is coming from. When Agnes forcefully takes their phones back, the girls get a little scrappy but walk away. Agnes is about to fight them because she does not appreciate being mistreated. Thankfully, she let it go.
Cut forward about a half an hour, Agnes is being very urgent and letting me know that we need to go. Like now. “And when I say we need to go, it’s because Sterling has just been kicked out of the bar!” (for Exorcism vomiting all over the place). When we get him outside, he is convinced that he has done something wrong and Agnes is lying to him when she says nothing has happened. So, Sterling decides to cross traffic and run away. Agnes is screaming for him to come back, while I chase after him and man handle him back to where we are waiting for an Uber. When we get him back across the street, he seemingly calmed down, but the instant the grip on him was loosened, he bolted again. So I did what any girl would do in this situation, I put him in a headlock. He continued to struggle and lost a shoe in the process, though we did not notice it at the time. At this point, we had just spent a good ten minutes using whatever force we could muster to keep him from escaping.Â
So, walking around in a busy part of the city, one shoe, one sock half off his feet, Sterling starts to calm down enough to convince him to get in an Uber I had gotten for us. We get his shoe back on, get in the car. Think we have crossed the finish line and can finally go home. WRONG. So wrong. It got worse. The second the car stopped to make a turn, Sterling decides that he should be left to fend for himself. He opens the door and tries to bolt again. Again, I go and force him to sit in the car. The driver looks at me and Agnes apologetically, because I think he knew we were just trying to get Sterling home, but then he says he cannot take us home because of Sterling being too drunk. So now Sterling take the opportunity to try and run down the alley way we had just driven through. Luckily, or not so luckily depending on your views, he falls down, gives up on running away for now, and starts blowing chunks in the alley. When he is done, I again convince him to just sit against a building and try to talk, meanwhile I am desperately sending out an SOS for backup.
We talk for a few minutes while I am trying to make a backup plan, and I finally ask Sterling what he wants to do. EMPANADAS! So, we walk a few blocks back to where he had seen an empanada place earlier in the night. Leaning against the third-party ATM in the tiny shop like it is his life force, Sterling decides he needs to be outside. Agnes asked me to go with him, make sure he does not try and run away again, and “Use force if I have to.” Obviously.
So, waiting outside of the empanada place, Sterling is sitting on the ground, I am babysitting him and hoping that we can finally get someplace to chill out and get to a better situation. Out walks Agnes with a few empanadas, or so I think. She tells me “I just spent $60 on empanadas!” I could not believe that a hole in the wall place would charge that much for some food, was convinced she had been taken advantage of in her drunken state, but decided to not press it further. There were more important tasks at hand.Â
Standing on a corner of an intersection, waiting for the chariot to finally whisk us away to somewhere, ANYWHEREÂ we could finally catch a break, Agnes is clutching the empanadas and Sterling is tossing his cookies, again. A blessed phone call comes through and the knight, or dame in this situation, in a shiny black chariot has come to the rescue! Agnes and I walk sterling across a couple cross walks, and finally think this whole night of insanity is coming to an end. I double check that Sterling is in a good enough state to ride home, and we all get in the second Uber of the evening. I let Sterling know that if he is feeling ill, the driver can pull over for him, hoping that this would not happen. Ever feel like there is real life foreshadowing sometimes?
So, on the way home Agnes and I are conversing with the lovely Claire about music, our favorite songs. The usual Uber small talk, if you will. We are listing to music, I play some R Kelly for sterling to cheer him up, hoping we cross this marathon finish line unscathed. FIVE MINUTES from our apartment, the heaving starts up again. Our mood is essentially killed. Ubers have ridiculous cleaning fees, or so I have heard. The driver, being cool as can be, decides to make light of the situation and says “I feel like this is the official initiation of an Uber driver. No one has ever thrown up in my car before!”
Thank goodness for chill drivers. She suggested that if we had cleaning supplies, we could clean the mess up and hopefully not get charged. So, we finally arrive back home. I get Sterling set up in the recovery position on the couch, place the precious empanadas on the counter, grab the supplies and get to it. Luckily, his reserves were running low by that point and there was not much of a mess. But, I still cleaned my darnedest. The driver let us know she would report it, but does not think there will be a charge because it was minimal. We wish her a great night and go inside. Empanadas are waiting!
Inside, with Sterling passed out on the couch, Agnes and I tear into the empanadas. Here is where I find out why it was $60. She bought 15 of them. Two of every flavor, apparently. Whatever. They were good. So good. So, we crossed the finish line. Got a delicious food reward. And, now we have an epic night out story.Â
And Sterling you ask? He woke up this morning, scratched and bruised from us trying to control him, no hangover, convinced he had held himself together last night. Of course I was way too happy to burst that bubble. I felt like I had been hit by a bus, all of my muscles are aching from trying to exert all of the force I could to keep Sterling contained. But hey, it was a hell of a night. Until next time kids.