Thursday, November 02, 2006

Liquid History Pt 2.

So it was Spring Break of my Grade 12 year. The air was warm, the beer was cold, and my best friend Mike had been kicked out of his house. I talked to my parents and we agreed that until Mike got things settled with his parents he could live with us. It was a no-brainer as Mike and I hung out all the time anyway.

There were a bunch of people we knew camping out at the local campground, and because some of them were hot chicks that we were interested in, Mike and I spent most of our evenings there. We'd drink all night, go home in the wee hours, crash for most of the day and proceed back to the campsite and get sloshed again that night. It was a perfect plan.

Except my body couldn't handle it.

I was drinking so much one evening that I actually started to make an ass of myself. I recall asking one girl (Who particularly annoyed me) if she could move to the left about a quarter mile as her gigantic ass was blocking what could be a beautiful moon in the sky. (I think I was trying to use my wit and charm to impress the ladies, but insulting their friends isn't the way to do it.)
I kept on drinking and ended up in a tent with my ex-girlfriend, where I proceeded to pass out. Shameful, you say? Maybe, but I passed out with my eyes open.

I awoke about ten or fifteen minutes later surrounded by people and the sound of girls crying.
Once I asked what the hell was going on, some of them thanked God I was alive and others said they were going to kill me because they thought I was faking it.
In the haze of the evening, all I remember doing is crawling out of the tent and going home. (Don't ask me how I got home, I can't really remember that.)
Before I left I went into the bushes and threw up for about fifteen minutes. I'm talking all-out, dry-heaves puking. It was not pleasant.

The next day I awoke and attempted to get ready for work. I showered, shaved, and made myself look presentable. (It's not a hard job, I clean up nice.) As I was tying my tie, I noticed that one of my eyes was a little bloodshot. I pulled down the lid to get a good look at the damage, and noticed that the entire bottom half of my eye was blood red. Was I worried? No way. I'm a manly man, and since there was no pain I was going to ignore it.

So I'm down at work and my boss comes in a couple of hours later. She takes one look at my eyes and asks me what the hell is wrong. Thinking it was just a bit red still, I go and check out my eyes in the mirror.

It was like looking at something from a horror movie. Everywhere my eyes should have been white, they were a dark, bloody red. I didn't look like I was possessed, I looked like the fucking Devil incarnate. It wasn't a pretty sight. I still felt fine, but ended my shift early to go to the hospital. I called Mike and he and I went to the hospital to get it checked out.

The story will continue ..... ( for those of you that haven't heard it already.)


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