June 2, 2015

Panic At The Disco: That Time I Got Punched In The Face




Since #MaddiethePug opened this week with one of her embarrassing stories Pug Posts: THIS COOLIE'S ON FIRE!!, I figured why not add one of my own.  Most of my embarrassing stories from the past are inundated with alcohol and poor decision making, which I only should write in a private diary (that I burn in a ceremonial Enron-style fire of stuff no one needs to know).  But come on now, would that really be any fun?

Nooooo, people LOVE a good overshare!  

People that are not my husband, that is.  I am fairly certain he will find this story cringe-tastic. Not so long ago, I was telling him that I would never share this sort of thing on my blog to complete strangers.

Me:  Yeah, I would NEVER tell complete strangers all the times I have been totally trashed or made really dumb decisions while drinking because that is just TOO much.

Husband:  Good.  You shouldn't.

Fast forward to me a few mornings ago lying in bed, remembering this story...


And here we are, folks.

Oh, by the way, this post is gif driven.  Be prepared.  I know, I am sorry I overkill with gifs but it must be done for demonstrative purposes. Since there is no photographic evidence (that I know of) to illustrate the story, the gif train has left the station.

Anyhoo, there was a time in my life, in obviously my younger and single days, when Vodka 7s were my Hulk juice that gave me nightclub superpowers. Or so I thought.  I was sort of reckless schoolgirl on a mission to discover uncharted waters and answering life changing questions like:

Is my liver made of vibranium? Let's drink 20 shots and find out.

Does Nelly really need two pairs of Air Force Ones? Sounds greedy to me, but ehhh!

How hard do I shake it like a Polaroid picture?

and....

How to......


Shake your whammy fanny funnnnnky song.  Right?  No?  Oh well, just keep reading.

It was a time in my life when my friends nicknamed me "Karen," that character from Will & Grace.  Was that an insult or did they like my wit drowned in martinis?


Ah, martinis.  Let me just stop right here to drive this fact home:

Vodka is the GRANDFATHER of all lies.  Do not trust him.

He promises you that your midnight makeup touchup in the club looks flawless when it really looks like this:


He also insists everyone is begging for your 2am karaoke rendition of the Goo Goo Dolls' Iris when in reality they are thinking:


And he swears it is a great idea to use your phone and text your loved ones.


But truly, I digress.

One evening, back in 2004, I headed out to a nightclub with some friends who we call Candy and Mr. Woof Woof.  Honestly, there is no reason for me to nickname these people because they play only a tiny role in the story.  The sad fact is I am a 12 year old trapped inside a grown woman's body and I just wanted to call the guy who worked at a pet store Mr. Woof Woof.  It made me laugh.  Just follow along.  Woof.

The nightclub was called "Parrot Beach" and had recently opened.  When you are headed to a nightclub with a stupid ass name, the whole night screams REALLY STUPID DUMB BAD IDEA.


But this was 2004, and I was in law school, plus any decision made after class ended was vodka-driven, and well, I explained that reasoning above.

Once we arrived at Parrot Beach, I had a few drinks and per usual, Gene Gene The Dancing Machine possessed my body and I headed to the dance floor to whip up a fury to those classic hits like Britney Spears Toxic, Mystical's Shake that Ass and 50 Cent's In Da Club.  It was on.


Yeah, right.  Another lie vodka tells is that my dance moves make me look like Beyonce when in actuality, I look more like this:


After my Lord of the Drunks routine, I was thirsty my body started detoxing and I headed to the bar for another drink.  Because clearly the 40 other drinks I had were not enough.



While standing at the bar, waiting on a refill, two guys started to argue.  Then, the guy standing directly in front of me arguing ducked just in time to miss the other guy's swinging fist.  And that fist hit me directly in the face, right above my eye.

But you know, I was cool with it because my old pal Vodka convinced me:


Except for the fact that I could feel a strange sticky liquid substance running down my face.  I headed to the bathroom.  What I discovered in the mirror was that substance was blood and I had a gaping wound over my eye.  Another girl, who I will call Night Nurse, (because I do not know her name and it will do, work with me, people) in the bathroom saw my predicament and tried to help.

Me:  I gotta wipes this up; it's clashing my makeup. (or I said something like this, in some language that you need a drunk decoder ring from the bottom of a rehab box to interpret)

Night Nurse: Omg, what happened, that needs stitches, I'm a nursing student, let me help you.  Who did this to you?  Did your boyfriend do this to you?  Do you want to go to the hospital?  How can I help you?

Me:


I was thinking more like throwing some water on it and heading back out to get my groove on.  Vodka, lying bastard, kept on promising it was not that bad.  Night Nurse insisted I clean up which was very kind of her, and then I realized I needed to go home before things got even worse.  

Or I started sobering up.

Or I got drunk-bored and thought of something better dumber to do.


Now, I have left about a part of this story - remember Candy and Mr. Woof Woof?  They had left their baby with a babysitter for the evening.  At some point during the night, the babysitter called and left a message panicking over a diaper explosion, so Candy and Mr. Woof Woof ran home to see what all the fuss was about.

Meanwhile, I was getting initiated into Fight Club.  Let's hear it for the babysitter who could not change one. single. diaper.

  
So here I was alone, with a bleeding head in a nightclub filled with Axe cologne and Usher's Yeah on repeat.  And believe you me, it was on repeat.  Any club in any town in the early 2000s played Usher's Yeah ad nauseum.  Take that and rewind it back.


Nothing, NOTHING, good happens after midnight, folks, know this to be true.  After about a dozen or more texts and calls, I finally received a text that Mr. Woof Woof was on his way back to the club to pick me up.

Once he arrived, this conversation took place:

Mr. Woof Woof:  Hey, get this.  I just saw a couple of other dudes getting into a huge fight outside the club.  That club was full of animals.  Did you see them?

Me:  Yeah,  I got punched in the face.

Mr. Woof Woof:  What?  Ohhhh, that looks bad.  Hey, do you mind if we do a Jack in the Box run on the way back to the apartments?  Candy is starving.  Did you have fun?

Me:


You ever notice people want to start up a Q&A with you when you are drunk?  I just drank the bar, got hit in the face and I am not up to answering twenty questions, Mr. Woof Woof.  

I am not up to answering the four of you that I see right now.

After all was said and done, which included me scarfing down a Jumbo Jack with cheese and large curly fry, I woke up like this:


The Vodka lives on to lie another day!  I had a pretty nasty looking gash, and I had to go to school the next morning because we were preparing for exams.  Showing up with my eye looking like that was embarrassing, plus everyone wanted to know what happened which meant 20 questions again.  Gotta love sober people.

I was like:



So, that is the story of that time I got punched in the face.  Even now, if I feel around the area above my eye, I can feel an indention in my skull where I took that hit.  So not cool.  You would think I had learned my lesson, but nah, there were many more stories to follow.  


Probably.

Do you have an embarrassing story? Apparently, it is embarrassing story week on the blog.  OVERshare it in the comments below!

Vodka KO'ed, I am still,



24 comments:

  1. Ahhh, good times!! Gotta love the vodka... and the wine... and the champagne... ;) Haha, I think I'm gonna have to go listen to Usher now... Yeah...! Feeling a bit nostalgic...

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    1. Lol I'm glad the sounds of Lil Jon saying yeahhhhhh takes you back! Nostalgic! Lmaoooooooo

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  2. Oh thats a great story...my Mum has a similar one involving a stiletto heel and she still has the indentation as well!
    (although I finks her drink of choice is gin 'Mother's ruin' not vodka!)
    Loves and licky kisses
    Princess Leah xxx

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    1. That trumps my story! A heel sounds baddddd!! lol

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  3. Ha ha, I can't even believe you got punched. I've never been to a club, but oh those songs take me back. lol

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    1. I know but I did! Why did everything have to be so crazy when I went out lol lol. You missed nothing by not going to clubs!

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    2. I just need to go one time, but I'm starting to get too old for that mess lol

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  4. Ughhh. I have a similar situation going on right above my temple.

    Nothing good happens after midnight is SO, so right.

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    1. Seriously! It took me years to learn my lesson!

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  5. LOL oh yes vodka is a liar that is for sure! I learned that lesson with screwdrivers. It was not pretty and the next morning my friends Dad barges in the room with one and shoves it under the covers right in my face and says rise and shine princess it's time for breakfast as he was laughing hysterically. I wanted to throat punch him ;)

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    1. Hahaha. Oh yeah vodka is the devil. Don't even get me started on the aftermath of a night of doing shots! Lesson to all: sobriety is your friend..stay soberrrrrrrrr lol

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  6. Haha. You remind me why I tend to avoid the vodka.

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    1. I'm like a poster child of war stories on why to avoid all kinds of alcohol!

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  7. Oh, the folly of youth! I swore off alcohol on many occasions. Finally, I realized that there is a fine line between enjoying the night and ruining the next day. Then again, I'm older and wiser and hangovers truly do hurt much worse than they used to. LOL!

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    1. Lmao ohhh my days of that are long over! My husband likes to be in bed with the pugs before 10....sometimes by 7, watching tv. I was young and dumb for many years though!

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  8. I broke my foot while trying to run from a date completely shitfaced, wearing a prom dress. THEN I tried to make out with him. Ugh.

    Don't miss my 20s at all!

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    1. Omg, lmao! Finally someone can commiserate with a crazy story! I was beginning to think it was just me over here.
      20s are the worst especially since your recoup time is like 4 hours so on a few occasions I would actually try it alllll again the next night! Dumb dumb dumb

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    2. $5.00 All You Can Drink Thursdays + Friday night frat parties + Saturday night sorority mixers = bad choices made all too often! You are not alone, girl!!

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  9. Omg! That is some story, but sadly I have had some interesting nights like this as well. Vodka is like those mean Sour Patch candies, they seem sweet at first and then wham you're falling down stairs or getting punched in the face. Glad you made it out alive. Those bar fights can turn out real ugly. I can't believe Mr Woof Woof just left. So not cool.

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    1. Oh I know right??? Some friends! Lol I never hung out with them again after I left law school. Haha I think they have like 5 kids now!

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  10. Can I just say how much I LOVE this post? And I love vodka, too!

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    1. Lol! My mom would roll her eyes and say "oh god you posted that on the Internet!!!"

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