We sat in my friend Pat’s house with our respective companions, the four of us all playing cards and drinking heavily as we normally did every Saturday night.
When a knock came at the door, it was our dear friend hunter arriving with an immense bottle of Captain Morgan in tow. The game raged on as we down this immense bottle from top to bottom, this is the last I can remember of this night. My friends all told me of the events that proceeded, of how I insisted on chugging from the bottle after I had reached the point of no return. How I had made the grave mistake of consuming both fried chicken and chocolate ice cream, which was quickly followed by my rushing to the nearest bathroom and locking myself inside. They claimed they could not ignore the monstrous sounds that were emitting from the latrine, so they jimmied the lock and checked in on me.
I was found scooping vomit into the toilet feverishly, continuing to vomit as I attempted to do so.
When asked if I was okay, all I could divulge was this nugget of wisdom. “I’m just collecting my thoughts.”

One Response to “A NIGHT RE-TOLD AS IT WAS TOLD TO ME”