Thursday, March 8, 2007

The Power is Out

Never once would I have ever thought of drinking Mojitos. Recently I was convinced they were a good time by a friend. That friend knows their shit because they are god damn delicious. My new love affair with them led to the idea of Black Out Saturday. The goal is to drink your drinks at an unhealthy rate much to the disgust of any and all strangers and wait staff. Belligerence is not required but it's not frowned upon either. The initial group set some lofty goals. An unprecedented event as a four man crew (2 men / 2 women) all blacked out the greater part of a Saturday night. I'll take you through the steps.

LEVEL I: The Chill

This is me sober, about to embark on what is now infamously known as "Black Out Saturday".
Ed note: "me sober" is a loose definition as there was already a solid 4 miller / 1 Newcastle base in place. Not really the point. Level one is relaxed banter with a level headed approach and clear cognitive brain functions. This would be your typical non binge drinking level.

Then came the mojito races.

I'll admit i was pushing the others hard. In round two of the mojitos I drank 3 out of 4 of the tabled drinks because I felt the ladies weren't going fast enough.

(that's right ladies, I'm a charmer...get it while you can).


This quick 1-2-3 punch will lead to me saying my soon to be catch phrase of the night:
"I love this mojito so much I want to take it out behind a middle school and get it pregnant".

Thank you Tracy Morgan.


LEVEL II: The Glare

Like the arrow was even needed. Totally blatant staring going on. Level II drinkers don't care. They're aware of their surroundings. Some might say too aware. Everything is looking good and the mojitos are working their magic. We already have one documented black out and the night is quite young. You can see it in her eyes. Poor girl. She never had a chance.
(ed note: check out my sweet Rad Racing T-shirt. I like to think thanks to my purchase Crew Jones got to race on HellTrack. Watch out for Hollywood Mike Miranda)



Level III: The Funk


Still going strong but clearly very much un-sober. Physically still passing for a normal person...until the rap comes on. You see, Level 3 Me likes to bust out any and all rap songs from the early to mid 90s'. I'll rap to it with my drink in one hand while the other hand is used to accentuate the lyrics. I'm starting to slip on the words though. I need a hype man like Public Enemy had. Someone to finish off my sentences with authority because my drunk mind is trailing off to the next thought which is usually...

LEVEL IV: The Slap

I guess I'm an ass man, because LEVEL 4 Del loves to smack ass. Good clean fun.


LEVEL 5: The Black Fog creeping in

We've reached critical mass. You can see it in my eyes. The lights are turned off. Anyone who knows me will be able to pinpoint this level very well. My sentences are peppered with "mutha fuckin'. Said in a late 70's Blaxploitation baritone.


LEVEL: ?
....Thank god for digital cameras. From World Cafe we hit another bar, or so we've been told. No one can remember. The camera died long ago and that was the only thing sober enough to document the night. Flash forward to the next day. Waking up at 10am dressed in the nights clothes (shoes included) and looking for some sort of memory of the previous night. We recap and piece together shared memories from our personal fogs and are lucky enough to get some outside help from a sober friend we ran into. Sounds like a good night. Getting a golden sombrero (4 for 4 on blackouts) and avoiding vomit and some sort of nonsense chicken head squabble is unheard of. Chalk it up to good team chemistry and the delicious mojitos.


Sadly, my hangover pancakes at Firehouse tasted like Mojitos. Not a good time.


I went to the gym on Monday night still feeling the hangover. I mentioned to the owner how i was glad that i came even though i was intially dreading it. When he asked why i proceeded to explain Black Out Saturday. No words can do justice to the look of sheer disgust on his face.

GOSH, quit judging me.

My body is a temple...a temple where they serve mojitos all night and then jack in the box at 3am...but a temple none the less.


This saturday the table is reserved. We have 12 slots. All booked. Cash and Mojitos only. The challenge is to have a bigger group and re-create the magic.

Feels like Christimas eve!

ed note: No hood rats were harmed in the making of this blog.

4 comments:

stalkerlocket said...

How you get such fine females to drink with you is always a wonder to me, Del.....

You are great and all, but DAMN!!

John Schellman said...

I can't believe I'm the first to point this out, but mojitos are a pretty gay drink. I think they should only be sipped by straight men if they're in the bahamas or hawaii or something.

Deltron3030 said...

Ha, you both make fine points. john, yes they are a bit fey..but look what they do to the ladies! I'd be stupid NOT to drink them.

hcamh said...

I'm glad your mature decision to give up myspace for Lent has resulted in a regression to the love for black outs. All the better for me to read about...

 
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