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Evilgrin 72

Story Time with EG - ***OFFICIAL THREAD*** (The "Magnum Opus" is complete 5/17/18)

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11 hours ago, Evilgrin 72 said:

ALL of these guys were as into prolonged beer drinking as I was, and that's saying a lot. The point when we were wandering around trying to find the bus, we spent 20 minutes just partying on someone's lawn. Someone stopped to grab a beer, then it became "Well ####, if he's having one, I'm grabbing one.." Then the funnel came out. Then the lawn chairs got set up. After about 20 minutes, I had to actually yell out : "Guys! We can't settle in here, we have to get to the bus! This is somebody's lawn!" :lmao:

Scary that you are the voice of reason. 

Does everyone else have to stop reading once in a while because they are laughing so much that they cannot see? 

Dick Wood.  Classic. 

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17 hours ago, Evilgrin 72 said:

A minute later, the bus was in motion and it was going to be kind of a long ride with the exiting traffic, so people started digging into their coolers and grabbing beers. 

Right. Because if it was a short bus ride you wouldn't have pounded.

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26 minutes ago, Buzzbait said:

Right. Because if it was a short bus ride you wouldn't have pounded.

:lmao:

Such a good point.

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Very impressed with how much you remember.  As long as I've been drinking, once I get to 8 to 12 beers, I don't remember Jack. 

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Chapter Four

 

Night, Saturday, May 15th, 1999.  "All Hell Breaks Loose."

 

We got back to the hotel shortly after sundown and everyone returned to their rooms to relax for a few minutes before we decided on our next move.  Dan-O went back to his and Beef’s room to change out of his puke-soiled clothes, Faz, Rose, and Jer-Mac went back to their room so Faz and Rose could dip back into their Dr. Gonzo-esque drug collection, while Chad, Kev, and I went back to our room to put Chad to bed.  Chad passed out seconds after we got him in there, while Kev and I cracked new beers and were deciding where to continue the day.  After about 15 minutes, Chad suddenly sat bolt upright in bed, looking around the room like he’d heard an intruder.  He then proceeded to get off the bed, sprint across the room to the door, exit into the hallway, and slam the door behind him.  Kev and I sat there, looking at one another quizzically, waiting for him to come back in.  A minute or two passed and there was no sign of Chad, so I got out of my chair and went to the door, opening it to look into the hallway.  Nothing.  He’s nowhere to be seen.  I informed Kev that Chad had vanished, so we went to both Beef’s and Faz’s rooms to see if he’d gone there.  Nope.  Everyone else was gearing up to go back out (except for Jer-Mac, who had also passed out - presumably he wore himself out singing Coolio into a beer funnel), but Kev and I really thought we ought to find Chad first, so we asked everyone to wait a few minutes and started searching the hotel looking for him.  No sign of him anywhere.  After about 20 minutes, the rest of the group had assembled in the lobby with plans to go to Fells Point to get the evening phase started.  Dan-O had changed into a ridiculous-looking blue and white striped suit, a fedora, and new sunglasses.  We asked them to hang out for 5 minutes while we checked the room one more time for Chad.  We took the elevator back up and were headed toward the room when we saw him.  He was sitting in the hallway, with his back to the closed door to our room, wearing no pants.

Kev: What the hell are you doing?  Why did you run out of the room?

Chad: A—holes ! Why did you lock me out?

EG: What?  You have a key.  Why did you run out of the room?  And where the hell are your pants !?

Chad: My what?

EG: Your pants !

Chad: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

EG: You had pants on when you left the room.  Your room key is probably in them.

 

- I unlock the door and we go back into the room –

 

Chad: I just had to take a leak and you jerkoffs locked me out.

Kev: What do you mean you had to take a leak?  We’re in a hotel room, A##head, the bathroom is right there !

Chad: What?

EG: What the f--- happened to your pants?

Chad: What?  I don’t know.  I know I was in the lobby at one point.

EG: Did you have pants on?

Chad: Ummmmm, I don’t know. I don’t think so.

Kev: We’re kicked out.

 

A few minutes later, Chad was out cold again, so we forgot about his pants for the time being and went back to the lobby to reconvene with the group.  We probably should have all gone to bed for the night at this point, but little did we know, things were about to get even more out of control….

 

We bounced around from bar to bar in Fells Point for a while before settling in somewhere – I couldn’t possibly remember the name of the place.  Faz and Dan-O struck up a conversation with a couple of pretty nice looking females while Kev, Beef, Rose and I were crushing beers combatively, along with the occasional round of whiskey shots that Rose insisted on getting.  We weren’t paying too much attention to what the other two were doing, but after a little while, Beef noticed he hadn’t seen Dan-O in a while.  He walked over to Faz and asked him where Dan-O had gone and Faz told him he’d walked away about 20 minutes ago and hadn’t been seen since.  Beef looked around the bar, in the men’s room, outside – no sign of him.  As I was the other person there closest to Dan-O, Beef enlisted my help looking for him.  To be honest, at this point, I was about sick of searching for busses, Chads, Dan-Os – I just wanted to sit down and drink, for the love of God.  We left Kev and Rose at the bar and started a hard-target search for Dan, which proved fruitless until I heard the fateful words, spoken from a female bar patron to the bartender..

“Excuse me, someone’s been in one of the stalls in the women’s room for about a half-hour.  People are knocking on the door, but she won’t come out.”

I knew immediately.  My first thought was that he might be plugging the girl he was talking to earlier, but a quick jog to the other side of the room indicated that that lass was still there talking with her friend and Faz, who was working on the friend.  I walked over.

EG: Excuse me, I’m a friend of Dan’s…the guy you were talking to earlier…

Girl: Yeah!  Where did he go? 

EG: That’s kind of why I’m here.  We can’t find him and I think there’s a decent chance he’s passed out in a stall in the women’s room.

Girl: The women's room?  Why would he be in-

EG: Don't bother, there's no good answer to the question you're asking.  Look, we don’t have any females here with us that can go look for him.  Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.

Girl: Well, since I’m a Star Wars geek and you asked that way, OK….

EG: Bear in mind, you may have to find a way into the stall.  I’m not certain it’s him in there, and I doubt people would be too keen on seeing a dude trying to climb into a stall in the ladies’ room….

 

She headed off to the bathroom and emerged about 10 minutes later.

 

Girl: Well, you were right, it’s him.  But the stall is locked and he’s out cold.

Beef: Again…

EG: HAHA!  Yeah, that’s the second time today.

Girl: You probably want to g-

Beef: We took a picture of my ### in his face this morning when he passed out at the track…

Girl: That’s lovely.


She brought us into the women’s room, explaining to the people on line what was going on so that our presence in the females’ rest room wouldn’t be reported.  Beef threw a shoulder into the stall door and busted it open in about 9 seconds.  It helps to have a Beef around, I would have had to crawl under the door and unlock it from the inside and wasn’t keen to wiggle around on a bathroom floor.  Sure enough, Dan-O was passed out, kind of half on the toilet.  Beef slapped him in the face and yelled at him to wake up.  Dan-O came to and almost immediately croaked: “Oh man, I s—t my suit……”  I almost died laughing, I just wasn't expecting those words, especially delivered in such a dismayed and pathetic tone.  Apparently, he’d sat down on the toilet with his pants still on to take a dump, passed out, and full-on crapped right into his suit.

 

EG: What the hell do we do now?  I guess we have to try to get him back to the hotel, but we can’t take him back on the Metro like this.

Girl: You can’t just leave him with a load of s---t in his pants!

EG: What exactly are we supposed to do about it?  ("Checking my pockets") I don’t have any spare pants on me.  In fact, our group is already collectively down one pair of pants already tonight. (Beef found this hilarious and now was laughing hysterically, which seemed to annoy her a little.)

Girl: Get his pants off and we’ll take his jacket and wrap it around his waist.

EG: That’s not a bad idea in theory, but I’m not taking his frigging pants and underwear off.  Beef, you’re his best friend, you do it.

Beef: Keep dreaming.

Girl: Whatever, I’ll do it.

 

I don’t know what Dan-O did right in a previous life to get the karmic gift of having chosen this take-charge, incredibly altruistic young lady to chat up in the bar, but God bless her, she started ripping his pants and underwear off while he moaned and giggled.  I averted my gaze so I could only hear what was going on and was instead looking at the group of women now gathering around to watch this.  Thank God for Dan-O that this was before the cell-phone camera era.

 

Dan-O: He heh he.. yeah, baby…

Girl: Yeah, this is so hot, you have a load of #### in your pants.  Help me out here, damn it !  Move your leg-

Dan-O: I s---t myself…

Girl: I’m painfully aware. (Struggles) For Christ’s sake, will you sit up?  Move your leg over here, there… that’s better.  Ugh, this is disgusting.  You’re so lucky I’m a nurse – no, don’t do that !  You’re going to get your jacket in the s—t!  Stop !

 

Beef and I were completely doubled over cracking up at this point, just listening to this.  I couldn't take it, I was leaned up against the wall gasping for breath.  That wasn’t helping matters as this poor girl was getting more and more irritated at the situation she’d found herself in, as well as at our apparent lack of concern.  Eventually, though, by some small miracle, she managed to get his pants and underwear off and throw them away, get his jacket off and tie it around his waist.

 

Girl: There, you should at least be able to get him home now.

EG: I love you.

Girl: I’ll bet.  You’re welcome.

EG: You’re an angel.  Here (hands her $50) – please drink on me the rest of the night…

Girl: That’s not necessary, but thanks for the gesture.

EG: I insist.  (shifts to mack daddy mode) Heyyyy, I was wondering if-

Beef: - [EG], not now.  We have to get this a—hole back to the hotel.

EG:  Yeah, true.  OK, bye.

 

We rounded up Kev and Rose from the bar, where they had done about 6 shots of Jack each while all this was going on.  The girl went back to her friend and Faz, who opted to stick around (surprise) while the rest of us dragged Dan-O back to the hotel.  Kev almost had an aneurysm laughing while I relayed to him what was going on - I could barely get the words out, I was still laughing so hard.  We got Dan-O outside and started the long trek back to the hotel, but every time the wind blew, it moved the jacket tied around his waist, giving all of Baltimore repeated free views of his tackle.  Kev, and especially Rose, were feeling the effects of the whiskey shots now, and were so far gone at this point that they were no help whatsoever.  Rose was running around doing spin kicks on street signs and changing the letters on ground-level bar marquees/chalkboards to display various vulgar and childish messages.  I remember he changed one bar's sign by breaking open the glass door the covered the plastic letters on their lit-up marquee and changed to it read "Faz is an ###hole," hoping Faz would see it on his way back to the hotel (he didn't.)  Beef and I dragged Dan-O down the street, looking constantly for cops, as Rose was getting more and more manic.  It was then that I realized that not only was his famously short temper not a rumor, but he also got hyper-aggressive when drunk.  I suppose that should have come as no surprise.

Eventually, we got back to the hotel after a long (really long, dragging Dan-O along) walk.  As we arrived, Dan-O started mumbling something about going into the pool to wake up.  That naturally triggered a bunch of lines from “Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas” – “If I put you into the pool right now, you’d sink like a GD stone.  You took too much maaaaan, you took too much too much….” – but Dan-O was undeterred.  Beef and I were just so happy to see him ambulatory and moving without our assistance that we followed him to the indoor pool.  Dan-O jumped in with his t-shirt on and using his suit jacket as a bathing suit and started floating around, while I tried my best not to fall over and to remember my lifeguard training in case it was needed.  Just then, I heard Kev say: “Yo, are those Chad’s pants over there?”  We walked to one of the lounge chairs around the pool, where a pair of cargo shorts was balled up.  We found a wallet in one of the pockets, and sure enough – they were Chad’s.  As we guessed it, he must have pulled them off, intending to go in the pool himself, but then bailed on the idea and went back to the room in his underwear.  I made some remark about how just that night, we had 2 of our group of 8 walking around our hotel lobby with no pants on.  It was meant to be a joke, but it unfortunately triggered what happened next…

Next thing I heard was Rose yelling: “Two out of eight isn’t enough, let’s make it three!”  I turned around and he had stripped completely naked and proceeded to do a cannonball into the pool.  I turned to Beef and told him it was time to fish Dan-O out – I was done with this and was ready to hit the sack and reset.  Regrettably, just about then, Kev said something about Rose at least not being in the LOBBY naked (as there was no one else in the pool at midnight.)  This, I guess was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  Rose yelled out: “What?  You think I won’t go into the lobby naked?”  Before anyone could even react, Rose climbed out of the shallow end of the pool and took off to streak the lobby.

Now, we had to get Dan-O out of the pool before we could even go see what the result of this was, so we missed the beginning of what happened next.  Apparently, there were two guys about our age with their girlfriends in the lobby when Rose lasered in nude.  They were also Preakness revelers, presumably, and had had a few beverages themselves.  One of them sealed everyone’s fate by taking offense to Rose’s naked form and made some comment to him, advising him to put some clothes on.  Whether this comment was innocuous, menacing, or somewhere in between, I’ll never know, but it set Rose off.  Rose flew at him and started wrestling him, right there in the lobby of the Radisson, with no clothes on.  The guy’s buddy tried to intervene, and that’s when we walked into the lobby - just in time to see Rose do a Van Damme-esque roundhouse kick, bollocks flopping about, and flatten the guy with a perfectly placed kick to the jaw.  The other guy had gotten up and was attempting to fight back, but having little success.  I thought back to the “pork chop” comment for a moment and was overjoyed that he’d not chosen to beat my ###, this guy was an absolute destroyer.  For about 5 seconds we stood there in shock, watching Rose kick the crap out of 2 guys at once while completely naked, and then the cops arrived. The manager had called the police and unfortunately, there must have been cops right outside the hotel.  4 uniformed officers flew across the lobby and tackled Rose.  He, not knowing (or maybe not caring) that these were policemen, was still fighting back and even holding his own.  The rest of us just stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do.  Dan-O was soaking wet, with a suit jacket tied around his waist and wearing no pants or underwear, Beef, Kev and I were drunk to the point of incontinence, and this guy we were with was naked and fighting four cops.  I literally had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do, so I just continued to stand there, as did the rest of our group, as they subdued and got handcuffs on Rose and took him out of the hotel, dripping wet and in his birthday suit.

We stood there for a few more moments in shock after they took him away, and then slowly made our way to the elevators and back to our rooms and passed out.  As I laid on the bed, I thought I had seen absolutely everything....

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1 minute ago, Brony said:

Very impressed with how much you remember.  As long as I've been drinking, once I get to 8 to 12 beers, I don't remember Jack. 

Shockingly, my only blackout period of the whole weekend was the Black-Eyed Susan on Friday.  I blame that on the absurd screwdriver Faz gave me.  Hard liquor gives me blackouts, beer never does.

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I'll try to get Chapter 5 (Sunday) up around lunch time and the aftermath/postscripts later this afternoon.

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1 hour ago, Evilgrin 72 said:

 The guy’s buddy tried to intervene, and that’s when we walked into the lobby - just in time to see Rose do a Van Damme-esque roundhouse kick, bollocks flopping about, and flatten the guy with a perfectly placed kick to the jaw.  

This is where I lost it. That visual is too good damn hilarious. :lmao:

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Oh, and I'm henceforth going to do my damndest to work "F the governor and F you" into casual conversation :lmao::thumbup: 

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3 minutes ago, Nathan R. Jessep said:

Oh, and I'm henceforth going to do my damndest to work "F the governor and F you" into casual conversation :lmao::thumbup: 

That spread like wildfire when we got back, even among those friends that weren't there and heard the story second-hand.  There's a fairly large group of people spread around the country now that, if any two or more of them get together in one place for beers, have about a 90% chance of saying or hearing that within 2 hours.

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12 minutes ago, berndog said:

:lmao::lmao:

That and when he told the girl, while she was pulling his pants off : "I s--t myself....", as if it was news, were too much.  The latter made me laugh so hard in the moment that I saw stars.  I almost literally passed out.

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17 minutes ago, Evilgrin 72 said:

That and when he told the girl, while she was pulling his pants off : "I s--t myself....", as if it was news, were too much.  The latter made me laugh so hard in the moment that I saw stars.  I almost literally passed out.

I liked the fact that it sounded like, ####-covered and still half-passed out in a woman's restroom, he was apparently trying to seduce the only human on this planet who was more than casually interested in helping him.  Certainly, even in his ####-assed drunk state he had to realize that he was jeopardizing the only help he was going to receive, but he figures, "nurse undressing me, this is hot". 

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EG: Don't bother, there's no good answer to the question you're asking. 

:lmao::lmao::lmao: 

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20 minutes ago, Evilgrin 72 said:

That and when he told the girl, while she was pulling his pants off : "I s--t myself....", as if it was news, were too much.  The latter made me laugh so hard in the moment that I saw stars.  I almost literally passed out.

You did a great job capturing the scene as I was laughing uncontrollably reading it.  

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10 minutes ago, Ditkaless Wonders said:

I liked the fact that it sounded like, ####-covered and still half-passed out in a woman's restroom, he was apparently trying to seduce the only human on this planet who was more than casually interested in helping him.  Certainly, even in his ####-assed drunk state he had to realize that he was jeopardizing the only help he was going to receive, but he figures, "nurse undressing me, this is hot". 

That's exactly what was happening, I'm glad that came across.  She was tersely replying to him and then he dropped in "I s--t myself...." and I almost died.

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11 minutes ago, berndog said:

You did a great job capturing the scene as I was laughing uncontrollably reading it.  

That makes me so happy.

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16 minutes ago, Evilgrin 72 said:

That makes me so happy.

You are the man.  Thank you for another well-written chapter of insanity.  I quit keeping track of how many times I just laugh out loud in front of my computer. 

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You guys had more of a "never leave a man behind" ethos than did we.  We subscribed to that in situations where there was physical danger of injury, but not danger of self imposed embarrassment.

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1 minute ago, Ditkaless Wonders said:

You guys had more of a "never leave a man behind" ethos than did we.  We subscribed to that in situations where there was physical danger of injury, but not danger of self imposed embarrassment.

We kind of had to.  Someone was always making a galloping ### of himself at one point or another, without the "all for one" ethos, we probably all would have been locked up.

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Chapter Five

 

DAY THREE – Sunday, May 16th, 1999.  “The Worst Is Behind Us, Right?  Right?”

 

I woke up that Sunday with one of the worst hangovers of my life, to the feeling of cold water dripping on my face.  I slapped at my face and opened my eyes to see Chad holding a full beer right out of the cooler over me, cooing “Rise and shine…..”  I wanted to kill him.  Not only had I not eaten anything besides a croissant on the bus on the way to Preakness (at least that I can remember,) but I hadn’t had anything non-alcoholic to drink since that bottle of water at 6:30 AM the previous day.  With probably 50-60 drinks in the interim.  So naturally, I grabbed the beer and started drinking it, such was the way of things back then.  No rest for the wicked.  Kev and I apprised Chad of the previous night’s shenanigans that I just described to you guys, and he was thrilled that we found his pants and especially his wallet, but looked dismayed at the same time.  When we asked why, he informed us that the half-ounce of kind bud we’d split between us for the weekend had been in his pants pocket.  It wasn’t anymore.  F---ing moron.  The money in his wallet and all his credit cards were still there, so I guess there’s SOME honor among thieves.  We all felt we needed to get stoned as well as drunk to try to help our hangovers, so we went down to Faz’s room begging.  He answered the door for the second consecutive day in bikini underwear and nothing else, and I made some comment to Kev about how I’d seen enough package that weekend to last me a lifetime.  The friend of the angel that saved Dan-O the night before was in Faz’s bed (this guy f—ks!) and Jer-Mac was still comatose.  Faz asked us where Rose was, and we had to explain to him what had happened.  Faz quickly got dressed, smoked us out, and then took off to try to get Rose out of jail.

After a couple of hours, the girl left, Faz came back, and informed us that Rose was going before a judge on Monday and that we had to leave him in Baltimore and go back without him.  This didn’t entirely upset me; I didn’t know if I wanted to be around a pissed-off, hungover Rose with a court date in front of him.  We packed up our crap and headed out in the Inner Harbor to get a bite to eat before we left Baltimore.  We ended up at a restaurant on the second floor of this strip of eateries, on an open-air rooftop patio.  Another restaurant downstairs had patio dining and people were enjoying their crab cakes al fresco directly below us, and below a large awning shading the outdoor tables at that establishment.  We all ordered food – I don’t recall what anyone ordered except for Faz.  He got pretzel nuggets with a cheese dip.  The reason I remember that specifically is that after eating about three of them, he decided it would be more fun to race them than eat them.  Allow me to explain.

Faz, who was on his third bloody mary (as was I) decided that he hadn’t done enough gambling at the track the day before and wanted to keep the action going.  He did this by placing two pretzel nuggets on the top of the awning of the restaurant below (which was attached to the building adjacent to our table and behind a small railing) and holding them in place with a butter knife, preventing the pretzels from rolling down the slope of said awning.  He then took wagers on which one would roll off the bottom first when released.  Money started flying around the table as the races began and the pretzels tumbled down the awning and off the bottom, two at a time.  It started to get heated – people were upping their bets and really getting into it.  Even a couple of dudes from an adjacent table walked over and got in on the action.  Faz then broke from the game long enough to obscure what we were doing from the waitress and ordered two more plates of pretzel nuggets, no cheese.  This led to more people holding knives as the “starting gates”, and soon we had 6 and 8 “horse” races going on, replete with arguments over which number had gone off first, as the increased number of pretzels started crossing over one another’s paths as they rolled down.  The races were going off every minute or so for a while until we were rudely interrupted by a waiter from the restaurant downstairs.  Apparently, the pretzels rolling off the bottom of the awning were landing all over tables down there.  People eating their crab cakes and sipping mimosas were literally having pretzel nuggets rain down on them from above every 45 seconds or so.  We apologized and told him we hadn’t realized we were right above tables and he accepted this and walked away.  He was barely out of earshot when I heard Faz yell – “30 seconds to post!”  I advised against continuing, but Faz gave me a look like I was insane for even suggesting cessation of the races (read: fun.)

Allow me to break from the narrative for just one moment here.  When I, your old pal EG, am repeatedly and consistently the voice of reason over the course of an entire weekend, something has gone horribly, horribly wrong.  OK, back to the story.

Another couple of races went off before the manager of the restaurant below us appeared on the patio, talking to the maître‘d of the restaurant in which we were (ostensibly) eating.  Within moments, we were brought our check and asked brusquely to vacate the premises.  The waiter stood there watching over us as we counted out money and handed the folio to the maître’d, then he walked us to the door.  Kev repeated his familiar mantra: “We’re kicked out.”

At this point, I figured we’d about worn out our welcome in Baltimore, but Faz suggested we pop over to the ESPN Zone for a few rounds before hitting the road.  That lasted about 30 minutes, as the ESPN Zone was evidently one of the first places to ban smoking indoors in Charm City.  Faz got busted blasting away on a Marlboro Light about 10 minutes after we arrived and was asked to put it out.  Feigning ignorance, he did so, and we were allowed to stay…… for another 10 minutes, at which point, he lit another butt.  This resulted in our being escorted out by two burly security guards.  By now it was early afternoon and having been kicked out of two different establishments already, we finally collectively decided that Baltimore had had enough of us. The now 7 of us piled into the van and began the three hour drive back to New Jersey.

Well, it SHOULD have been a three hour drive.  And would have been except for the fact that Faz pulled off the highway every time he saw a drinking establishment and tore in so we could “have a quick one.”  This was the first time that I realized, even after the supposedly accidental vodka chug Friday morning, that this man had a serious drinking problem.  We stopped at a number of different bars on the way back, in Maryland, Delaware, and New Jersey, having several rounds in each bar.  Much to the chagrin and CONSTANT grumbling of a few people (Kev more than anyone) that really wanted to just get home already and start recovering, the normally three hour drive took us over nine hours to complete.  Well, we almost completed it….

We dropped everyone off except for Kev and myself along the way and were finally only a few minutes from Faz’s house, and a few more minutes from the comforts of our own beds.  It was now roughly 11:30 PM and Kev and I both had to work the next morning (we worked for the same company on Wall Street.)  At this point, it seems like the story should end.  However, in a moment I will regret to my last breath, I cracked the one joke that I wish more than any other that I could go back in time and not verbalize.  Kev was still complaining about how long it took us to get back and that he had to work, yada yada yada.  I made the mistake of saying, completely ironically, as we passed by a local bar that we often frequented called the Olde Silver Tavern: “Hey, it’s still 2 hours to last call at OST.  Why don’t we pop in for a few?  HAHA..”  Faz instantly yanked the wheel to the left at about 40 MPH.  The van might have actually gone up on two wheels as we made the high-speed turn into the parking lot, tires screeching.  Kev looked at me and half shouted, half groaned: “WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY ?!”  All I could do was sheepishly apologize as the engine was turned off.

 

Fast forward an hour and a half.  We’d had about 4 more beers and Faz was settled in at the bar, a bar where Kev and I were well-known, mind you.  Faz was blitzed out of his mind and was starting to get on the (older, very old-school) bartender’s nerves.  At some point he got a runner’s bib (or whatever you call it) from someone at the bar that had a number 7 on it.  I guess the guy had run a 5K earlier and still had it with him for some reason.  I mention this only because Faz was inexplicably walking up to people telling them, completely earnestly and as if they’d be interested, that he was “number 7.”  It made absolutely no sense, but he was a lot smoother and less annoying than Jer-Mac and his Coolio karaoke, and most people were laughing and quasi-ignoring him.  The bartender, on the other hand, was getting increasingly annoyed with him.  Kev and I kept apologizing to the bartender, but he was adamant that we take Faz and f--- off already.  We actually both just wanted to get home at this point, so we were fine with this.  We grabbed Faz and told him that we’d been asked to leave, yet again.  Naturally, this just fueled his fire, so instead of leaving, Faz opted to jump up onto the bar and stand up on it, yelling out to the whole place: “I’m Number 7!!  You hear me?  NUMBER SEVEN !!!”  It was at this point that the bartender called the police.  I heard him do it and was literally grabbing Faz’s leg and trying to pull him off the bar.  I tried to explain to him that the cops were coming and that we had to get the hell out of there, but it just wasn’t registering. Ultimately I got through to him, but as it turned out, just a fraction too late.

We had just left and walked across the parking lot to the van and were about to get in when the squad car rolled in and trained its spotlight on us.  I groaned aloud as it approached and the patrolman got out and walked over to us with the standard “Good evening gentlemen….” salutation that I’d heard so many times before.  When he asked who was driving, I knew we were screwed, there was literally no way possible for any of the three of us to convince this cop that we were capable of safely operating a motor vehicle.  Once he honed in on Faz, it being his vehicle, things went from bad to worse.  He asked to look through the car and Faz, having consumed all the drugs he brought (and ours having been stolen), thought that it was safe to grant him permission.  Naturally, within two minutes, the cop found a roach in the ash tray and pulled it out.  He asked who it belonged to and of course, we all just stood there feigning incredulousness.  His partner then cuffed Faz’s hands behind his back while the first cop called for someone to come tow/impound the van.  My heart sank as I tried to figure out a way out of this, but it didn’t seem possible.  Where I saw inevitability, though, Faz saw opportunity.

 

Faz: What are you booking me for? You can’t arrest me for DUI, I wasn’t in the car and the keys are in my pocket.

Officer: Possession of marijuana.

Faz: With what proof?

Officer: (holds up the roach right in front of Faz’s face) : With this..

 

As he said that, Faz leaned forward, handcuffed, and snagged the roach out of the cop’s hand WITH HIS TEETH.  As shocked as I was watching Rose kick two guys’ ###es naked the night before, this stunned me even more.  I was in complete disbelief, it would never have occurred to me in a million years to try this.

 

Faz (swallowing the roach and smiling glibly at the cop): Where’s your evidence now?

 

I was dumbfounded.  For a few seconds, I wondered whether this was insanity or sheer genius.  It was the former.  Unfortunately, when he chomped at the roach, apparently Faz got a bit of finger along with it.

 

Cop (as he tackled Faz to the ground): Well, smart ###, now you’re being booked for assaulting a police office and obstruction of justice.

 

The cops grabbed him, dragged him to their squad car, and shoved him in the back seat while Kev and I stood there, completely flabbergasted, with no idea what to do.  Again.

 

Cop: You’re going to have to find another way home, we’re impounding the van.

EG: It’s 1:30 AM on a Sunday, there aren’t even any cab companies open around here at this hour.  Can you give us a ride to-

Cop: Not my problem.

 

With that, they took off with Faz in the back seat.  Now we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere at 1:30 AM on a Monday morning and we both have to be at work in lower Manhattan at 9 AM.  There weren’t many people we were comfortable calling for a ride at this hour, and as I suspected, there were no cab companies answering the phone.  I tried calling Yams.  The conversation went like this:

 

Yams (answering clearly from a dead sleep): Who the #### is this?

EG: Yams, it’s me.  Listen, Kev and I are stuck at OST with no ride out of here and the cab-

Yams: [EG], are you serious?

EG: I don’t have time to get into it all right now, I’ll tell you the story later, but we’re stranded here and need-

*CLICK*

 

So, with no ride, we had little choice but to hoof it the ~5 miles back to our condo.  We walked glumly through the misty night air along mostly empty roads, recounting the ridiculous events of the weekend, until we got back home about 4:30 AM.  We both retired to our respective rooms, took a 2-hour nap, and by 7:30, still plastered, we were both on the Academy bus in suits, bound for Wall Street.

 

The final toll of the weekend rolled out like this (as discussed on the walk home.)  We estimated that over the three days, the 8 of us went through close to 1,000 alcoholic beverages.  Roughly the equivalent of 6 kegs of beer. 3 people ended up pants-less in the lobby of the (pretty nice) hotel we stayed at.  Two of us had been arrested and were now detained.  We’d been kicked out of 3 different restaurants/bars (but miraculously, not the hotel.)  1 all-out fight and several others narrowly avoided.  $500 in damages from the broken painting in the hallway of the hotel.  The collateral damage from this trip was significant.

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Loved the part about the pretzel nugget racing.  That’s definitely something I could see myself doing

closest was probably gambling on the Punching Bag game at Trixies the night before the Kentucky Oaks.  We were constantly pumping money into that thing for at least an hour and betting over/unders for people’s punches or backing certain friends in a best of 3 type environment.  I walked away with at least $100 on it

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24 minutes ago, Evilgrin 72 said:

We ended up at a restaurant on the second floor of this strip of eateries, on an open-air rooftop patio.  Another restaurant downstairs had patio dining and people were enjoying their crab cakes al fresco directly below us, and below a large awning shading the outdoor tables at that establishment. 

Me: Ooooooh, this is going to come into play later!!!!111

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Just now, Worm said:

Me: Ooooooh, this is going to come into play later!!!!111

I thought for sure someone was going to do a hangover barf over the side

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I'd like to say we all knew a Faz in our day but I can't remember any of my friends being that much of a lunatic. 

Edited by Insein
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Just now, Insein said:

I'd like to say we all knew a Faz in our day but I can't any of my friends being that much of a lunatic. 

I'm not even entirely doing him justice.  I ran with a pretty wild crowd generally speaking (that I was at least among the most reasonable and subdued of the bunch should give you some idea how much so) but Faz was #1 with a bullet.  I could do an entire thread of just Faz stories, many are so unbelievable that people here would undoubtedly question the veracity of the tales.  I try to keep it only to things I witnessed first hand and can recall/recount but I am sure there will be some vignettes going forward that will re-acquaint you with Faz.

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21 minutes ago, WhatDoIKnow said:

Questions for when you are done with the story:

Are all of the participants still alive to this day?  How many are permanently incarcerated?  If still alive and not in prison, how are they doing (lives, jobs, families, etc.)?

ETA:  Please tell me Faz is a teacher or minister or something.

All of these questions will be answered in the final chapter. I'm actually glad you asked because I sketched out a Where Are They Now? end-cap to the story, but briefly considered canning it. I wasn't sure if anyone would care. 

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10 minutes ago, Evilgrin 72 said:

All of these questions will be answered in the final chapter. I'm actually glad you asked because I sketched out a Where Are They Now? end-cap to the story, but briefly considered canning it. I wasn't sure if anyone would care. 

Does Rose happen to live in Australia now, by any chance? 

https://abcnews.go.com/ABCNews/late-passenger-attempts-break-plane/story?id=55228147

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8 minutes ago, Brony said:

If you submitted this as a movie script, you'd get laughed at for it not being believable. 

Pretty much. I feel like this trip would work well as a film. Lots of visuals to enhance the dialogue. 

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19 minutes ago, Evilgrin 72 said:

Pretty much. I feel like this trip would work well as a film. Lots of visuals to enhance the dialogue. 

Especially one of those cheesy Where Are They Now montages at the end 

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RIP Faz and Dan-O. :salute:

helluva story, EG :thumbup: 

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Bra-freaking-vo.

:bow:

When I pictured it in my mind, I never thought that Dan-O's suit stripes weren't vertical. Perfect. 

RIP Dan-O and Faz.  Thanks to them and to you EG, for the laughs. 

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* raises hand *

I have a couple of questions:

1) How are you not 350 pounds drinking all that beer?

2) How do you drink so much beer and not get alcohol poisoning?

I have to admit, that's one of the wildest stories I've read in some time.

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8 minutes ago, Skipdog77 said:

Bra-freaking-vo.

:bow:

When I pictured it in my mind, I never thought that Dan-O's suit stripes weren't vertical. Perfect. 

RIP Dan-O and Faz.  Thanks to them and to you EG, for the laughs. 

I kind of intentionally didn't describe the suit much because I knew I was going to post that picture.  I figured it might be funnier that way.

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