Yesterday, I got drunk.
As much as I wish I could save my ego and tell you that I got drunk for the first time ever in my life by consuming multiple alcoholic drinks, that simply was not the case. Herein lies the story about the time I got drunk by pounding back one shot.
Last night, while out to dinner with The Boss, I decided to order a drink. When I get drinks at restaurants (which is very infrequently), I order a shot of either Captain Morgan or whatever vanilla vodka they have. That way I can make my drink as strong or as weak as I'd like, or just pound back the shot and be done with it. So last night was nothing different, when the waitress came by to take our drink order.
"What would you like to drink?" the waitress asked. I motioned for The Boss to order first.
"I'll have a blackberry iced tea, please," The Boss said.
"And for you, sir?" the waitress asked, not looking up from her order pad.
"I'll have a Coke. And can I have a shot, too?"
She finally looks up. "Sure. What would you like?"
"I dunno..." I said, stalling. "How about a shot of Captain. Or Jack."
"We've got both, so which would you like?" She shifts her weight restlessly from one foot to the other.
I look at The Boss for a suggestion. I was tired and I couldn't make up my mind. She holds up two fingers, suggesting I order my second choice.
"Let's go with Jack," I say finally.
"Jack it is," the waitress says, and leaves to get our drinks.
A few minutes later she comes back. She sets The Boss' iced tea on a coaster, and does the same with my Coke. Next, she sets down a chilled double-shot glass filled with an amber liquid on the table next to my coaster. I look at it thirstily. We order our entrees, and the waitress leaves.
After I sip at my Coke for a bit, The Boss looks at me curiously.
"What?" I ask.
"Aren't you going to take your shot while it's still cold?"
"No, I'm going to wait until I have had some of my food first. I don't want it to sit heavy on my empty stomach."
"Okay," she says, with an inflection that seems to say 'it's your funeral.'
Having done plenty of shots before, I brush it off. Our food comes out shortly after, and by then I have forgotten all about it. With gusto, I dig into my bacon cheeseburger. When I'm about halfway through it, I pick up the shot glass. It's lukewarm now, so I decide to just pound back the shot rather than have it warm up my Coke. The Boss sets down her silverware and sits back, eyes wide.
I raised the shot glass to my lips, poured it down, and with a quick toss of my head, swallow. I grimaced as it burned on the way down. I felt the warmth of the drink travel the length of my throat and settle heavily into my stomach. The burning intensified, spreading up into my sinus cavities. I cough, trying to clear my throat but there is nothing there to be cleared. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes. I reach blindly for my Coke glass and gulp it down.
Once I gained my composure, I notice The Boss looking at me with a smug grin on her face.
"What?" I cough.
"Not what you were expecting, was it?" she asks.
"No, not really." I clear my throat again. "It has been a while since I've done a shot of rum."
"Yeah." I point at the empty shot glass. "Rum."
"That wasn't rum, Mike. That was Jack Daniels."
I blinked a couple of times, and the alcohol hits me in the face like a brick wall.
"That was whiskey?" I ask, confused and becoming just slightly dizzy.
"Yeah. You just did a double shot of room-temperature whiskey. How do you feel?"
I couldn't answer her. I was too busy holding onto the table to keep from falling over. And just like that, I realized I had blazed right past being buzzed.
I was drunk.
I guess there is a first time for everything. I just didn't think I'd be that easy.
P.S. I had intended to order a shot of Calico Jack, for some reason not realizing that most restaurants don't carry bottom shelf spiced rums.