Tuesday, September 05, 2006
I remember discovering a phrase that had been coined about me....
Year: 1987
Place: Friends' apartment near Denman Street, Vancouver
A whole gang of us had been out dancing and drinking and having fun. It was late in the evening, and we, one big leather-clad, spiky-haired, metal-studded monster, stumbled back to Adam and Geoff's apartment. One of the girls, maybe Nancy, headed into the bathroom to puke. When she came out, she flopped straight onto the couch and passed out like a dead thing. Somebody laughs. "Hey, she pulled a Paula!"
Ummm...I'm sitting right over here. "What do you mean?" I asked.
"Oh, man...you used to do this every f***in' night! We always had to drag you home from somewhere."
"Oh, yeah. That." I pretend to laugh because everybody is looking, but that really bothered me. Who were these people that I trusted so much, so much so that I was willing to walk around unconscious and let them guide me? I didn't really know any of them at all. I knew their names, but I knew nothing about their hearts.
I secretly vowed to become better at holding my liquor.
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3 comments:
Hey PJ, you're good at modest consumption, but I think after 2 pints, you'd walk into a tree or something.
HA
I've never puked from booze, but I recall a couple times when a few cactus buttons had me heaving in the weeds...long LONG time ago.
That picture is...disturbing.
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