Mind Eraser

Note to self: open bars that start at 8pm are very, very bad news.

It was one of those nights, last night....drinks were flowing, the bar was packed and thankfully had some attractive females in attendance for once. By about 10pm, I was a good five sheets to the wind, and by midnight, I....well, pretty much everything after 11pm is a blur right now. I do recall almost getting arrested on the walk home, when I tossed the remnants of a 7 Stars (best.pizza.ever) slice onto the sidewalk. As my shitty luck would have it, the car parked next to where the crust landed had three undercover pigs sitting within it, and apparently they hate pizza crust. You'd have thought that I'd snuffed an old lady in front of these cops, the way they were fuming, asking me, "Why in the hell would you even do that?" Asking to see my ID, the whole nine. All over pizza crust. See, kids---it never pays to litter. Lesson learned.

Aside from that fast food felony, I'm also piecing together some of the convos I had at the bar, with friends and some females I'd just met. I'm pretty sure one of the girl's name was Lisa Marie, a name I assumed was a fake cover-up one, like so many chicks tend to give to guys they're not interested in. Lisa Marie just sounds made up, doesn't it? But alas, she insisted that it was her true government, and even had a friend come over to confirm it to me and show me her ID. I guess I made a bigger deal out of it then I thought I was.

But really, I've been trying to figure out what exactly I said to a certain few people, people who know me, not beer-goggle-assisted randoms. I know for a fact that I had a couple deep, feeling-pouring exchanges with a couple of people, but can't for the life of me remember what I said. And all this thinking isn't helping the ginormous hangover I'm still feeling.

I hate when this happens, though. I sip so much of the intoxicating stuff that my night becomes a total foggy mess, riddled with questions and concerns. So far, nobody has called me to yell at me or make fun of me or remind me of some shameful thing I did, so I'm assuming everything is kosher. But don't you just hate that? Not being able to piece a drunken together in its wake, yet knowing that some meaningful or eye-opening things were said and you have no way of proving it?

It's not like I'm just going to call certain heads and be like, "So, yeah, I know we had this deep talk last night, and feelings were put on the table, but sorry, I was absolutely shitfaced and can't remember what was said. Could you remind me?" Talk about defacing a special moment. Sheesh.

If I had to place the blame on this lapse of memory, it'd rest solely on the glasses of Mind Eraser drinks I busted through at the bar. It's some kind of shot-on-roids, in a regular-size glass that tastes a bit like Coffee Petron, and you have to take it in one big gulp the face, with the help of a straw. But fuck me, it truly lived up to its I-totally-get-it-now name.

Note to self: no more Mind Erasers.