Last year, during one of the nights of opening round March Madness games, Jud, Wing, Kyle, and I went to JB Stouts. When the evening began, the plan was to eat dinner, have a couple beers, watch a round of games, and then head home to watch the late games. I even had my tab in front of me and the pen in my hand to sign off, when I uttered the famous words "Ahhh screw it- I'll have one more." I re-opened my tab, and of course everyone knows what happens next: all of a sudden it's 2 in the morning, my tab went from $18 to $73, and I'm wondering if I can make it home before I puke, or if I should swallow my pride and do it here at the bar. Just a legen...wait for it....dary night, and we immediately vowed to each other that we would keep that tradition going the next year. Which we did on Friday night.
And now, after the 2nd annual Stoutsapaloozafestathon (the name I came up with over the course of the night, after I decided that Stoutsapalooza wasn't good enough, so I added fest to it, and then later....you get it) it is quickly becoming one of my favorite days of the year. We bet on random in-game situations (when exactly will the under-12 TV timeout occur? Where is Siena located? Who will score next for Louisville?) and the person whose answer was furthest away paid for the next round of shots. I ended up taking more shots than any single night since my power hour, on top of all my beer and nachos (the bartender asked me if had a tapeworm because I ate so much and continued talking about how hungry I was....booyeah.) We added a couple newcomers, Chris and Nate, and after about 20 minutes of the madness they had already given their verbal agreement for next year.
After tourney games were done, a bunch of us headed back to Willie's, the scene of JukeboxGate 2009 from a week earlier. As luck would have it, the bartender from that story was bellied up as a customer, and as an added kicker, it turns out that she is friends with Wing. So we talked for awhile, and shared a good laugh at my blacked-out shenanigans and buried the hatchet (although she wasn't really that pissed at me to begin with- after her initial annoyance, she thought it was pretty funny, actually.)
After we talked, I went over to the jukebox and played 'Shake Your Body Down' again, just to see her reaction (and because it is still a kick-ass song.) She busted out laughing and I gave her a wink and the gun. I followed that up with about six other Michael Jackson songs, and later got a compliment from some random girls for single-handedly changing the vibe in the bar, which up to that point had been more of a Waylon Jennings/Johnny Cash "I've been here since 10 a.m., I've had 27 Old Milwaukees, and as soon as I finish this one I'm gonna go home and start a fistfight with my wife" vibe.
Moral of the story: I may be an asshole when I'm blacked out; but I'm witty, charming, and basically irresistible to all women when I'm socially drunk....at least that's what I tell myself as I'm laying in bed at 4 am, right before I fall asleep. Although it's kind of stretch to call it falling asleep- it's more like passing out.
And oh yeah, Stoutsapaloozafestathon is awesome.
