Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Best Pinic EVER

My friend Sean just sent me a link to an excellent series of photos of people passed out drunk - Top Ten Signs You Drank Too Much. I assume it's rooted deep within the human genome to never not think pictures of people passed out are hilarious.

So when I saw this overindulging picnic-goer, my first reaction was to snicker. Yet, it was somehow familiar...



Obvs, but no, this wasn't really what it reminded me of....


After my senior prom in high school, my friends and I spend the night at a girl's house for a magical evening of unsupervised partying and the titillating expectations of a unisex sleepover. We stayed up until dawn drinking Cider Jack and Red Dog, and hung out in the park across the road, where I eventually fell asleep on the metal warm-up bench on the baseball diamond. Around 9am, I was awoken to the sounds of a local little league team that had shown up for practice.

In the blurry hindsight of years of far worse behavior, that still sticks out in my mind as the one moment where I crossed some unmarked threshold into lousy degenerate adulthood. I emerged a lumbering hungover monster passed out on the bench, jaded and peeved I spent prom night without the birthright comfort of a nubile teen body next to mine (my prom date was a 300lbs Mormon - not an exaggeration); on the other side of the boundary line were the innocent youths on the local little league team dedicated to good sportsmanship and the pursuit of orange slices.

7 comments:

Dead Ass! said...

that is one incredible prom night
tale!

Chum said...

Juxtapositions of that kind have been the fodder for innumerable coming of age, as well as I'll never grow up no matter how hard I try, novels. It seems tales of this sort could bear an apt title along the lines of, "The moment I realized I was doomed"...or not.

Anyway, this one stands out with some difference for me. I could see Holden/Jack/Buk smarting at the sun when waking up, thinking of the fat momma that groped him the night before (that phony bitch), and seeing the bratty kid who used to play ball as something forever lost to himself. Still funny, but cool. Yeah...whatever.

Anonymous said...

At the risk of being too cliche, this title should really be:
Best. Picnic. Ever.

Anonymous said...

you're such a good writer!

Jess said...

LOVE YOUR STORY hahaha

Megan said...

AND they were drinking Molson's Canadian, sweet! My dad made sure we had some of that on hand for my wedding.

The Honorable Mayor of Bethville said...

It could always be worse. She could be laying there in a pool of her own sick.