The weekend that nearly killed me…

 

The date of the below occurrences is over a month ago, but it has taken me that long to get over them and be able to write about them coherently. Yes, it was that bad.

Lamar’s birthday was Aug. 3, which was a Monday, so to celebrate he had myself and my cousin, Cristyn, come stay with him for the weekend prior. We arrived at Lamar and Dusti’s (Lamar’s ex/roommate/best friend) on Thursday for a cookout and cocktails.

Now, let me know stop here to tell you that for the past month Lamar had been raving about his 25th birthday and how he was going to do drag and make a big production out of it. He made Cristyn and I promise that we’d both spend the weekend with him. Little did I know that doing so would be detrimental to my health.

So, like I said, we got there Thursday for a cookout and some light—that later turned into heavy—drinking. I have to admit, Thursday night was fun. It was just the four of us, and we stayed up late pigging out on grilled hotdogs, chicken and hamburgers and sipping on cheap vodka mixed with Hawaiian Punch. I was slap happy drunk. Dante was mostly on the DL that night.

Friday was much of the same, drinking and friends. We did some pre-partying with Brian (a friend of Lamar’s that I’ve gotten to know) and his “straight” friend Mike. Brian is a spirited, “shuga mamma,” especially when drunk, who brings life to any party. A self-proclaimed fashionista, he typically has men stopping in their tracks just from his fierce runway-inspired assembles.

Mike was a friend whom we’d never met. (But he bears mentioning because he becomes an important part of the story later.) Like Brian, he’s rather slim, but sexually androgynous, with a pretty smile. Story was that Mike was joining Brian for his “last hurrah” that weekend before he headed off to California for grad school Monday.

After a few shots and a cocktail (or two) we piled into the car and headed out to the Short North (Columbus’ gay, I mean, arts district, lol).

First stop: Liquid (a mostly lesbo bar that has amazing music). Lamar wanted to dance and knew that I wasn’t into the “twink fest” that usually takes place over at gay clubs Level and Union. I started the group off with a round of drinks and a round of shots (I had just gotten paid) after which we hit the dance floor.

Being slightly sloshed from the pre-partying, the dancing wasn’t exactly “So, You Think You Can Dance” caliber. I do remember at one point Brian started a Soul Train line in the middle of dance floor. After a smoking trip to the patio, we soon tired of Liquid and made our exit. Due to my lowered inhibitions, Lamar convinced me to make a stop at Level before we took our drunk-man’s hunger to Steak ‘n’ Shake.

Friday night was mostly uneventful where drama is concerned, but I wanted to convey the drinking pattern that was forming. Saturday and Sunday are where things get interesting.

So, I wake up Saturday afternoon with a slight hangover. Nothing a tall glass of water and some Ibuprofen doesn’t cure. However, Lamar decides that 2 p.m. is the time to start taking shots of tequila. After, nearly puking the Steak ‘n’ Shake from the night before, Cristyn and I get dressed and head out for a pre-planned trip to Huntington Park to watch the Clippers baseball game with my father and the rest of our family. We down a few beers at the game, which is rained out early, and head back to Lamar’s.

Upon arrival, Lamar is buried under our friend Robert’s massive collection of makeup and beauty utensils. Robert is another friend met though Lamar. Skinny but feisty, Robert is an adorable makeup artist currently working his way up the corporate ladder at Express, who’s a blast to hang out with.

Dusti is simultaneously making drinks and getting ready to go out. He hands us a couple shot when we come through the door. I soon entered tipsy-ville, and Dante began to emerge. Dante’s first order of business: chasing Dusti (who’s wearing only briefs and a t-shirt) around with his camera.

Brian and Mike soon joined the group and the drinking intensified. Lamar also decided to model his varying states of transformation into Sheryl Peaches Delaney. (Refer to attached photos.) A few hours later, after Ms. Delaney was finally ready, we headed out the door to Union. We get there and of course Lamar is a big hit. I began snapping photos immediately.

(This is when the details become a bit hazy.)

I do remember heading outside and setting up shop at a table near the bar, upon which there was a flyer left by someone with the title “The Steps to Salvation.” After a hilarious round of jokes about gays and religion, Cristyn she was going to “save” everyone at the bar and began reading the sermon to surrounding bar patrons. We soon decide to leave for Level.

Level is just a couple blocks down the street and I somehow decide that it’s a good idea to channel Naomi Campbell and began sashaying down the street. It goes without saying that Dante had completely taken over.

(Disclaimer: It was at this point that I woke up on Lamar and Dust’s coach. The rest of Saturday was dictated to me by several sources as I do not remember any of the following taking place.)

Apparently upon entering Level I became a social butterfly. Camille, a bubbly and beautiful friend of Brian’s, soon joined us and we proceeded to drink with her and a few friends she’d brought with her. I was told one of her friends, a cute youngin’ named Kris, became a target of Dante’s. There were many pictures taken of us together with Camille that I have no recollection of.

But, Kris apparently wasn’t what I was looking for because I’m told that I decided to make out with Mike. Yes, the “straight” dude that came with Brian. It appears that Mike was “making his rounds” because I laterdiscovered that he also made out with Cristyn. There are pictures of Mike and I together that I also have no recollection of.

I was also told that we headed back to Union after Level, (another detail I have no recollection of) where we had a few more drinks and posed for a few more pics before heading home. I passed out in the back seat of Dusti’s car and upon arriving at the house was shown to the coach, where I decided to completely disrobe. At which point the rest of the clan took a trip to Arby’s for sustenance. This was approximately 4 a.m.

My eyes shot open six hours later to a pounding a headache. I sat up and let out a loud moan of agonizing pain. A few minutes later Lamar surfaced, surprised that I had woken up before him (to which I was equally surprised). He made some clever quip about my antics the preceding night, and when I gave him a blank stare of ignorance he eagerly plopped on the couch beside me to rehash every embarrassing detail.

After downing about four pain pills I crashed for another few hours before waking to the realization that I had a story due that evening, and there were plans to go out, again. Over the next few hours, still in severe hangover mode, I quickly pumped out a narrative that, after reading it the next day, just so happens to be one of the best stories I’ve written this year. It seems that hangovers are my muse. How lovely. (Check out the story here.)

While I was on the phone and writing at the same time Lamar began to set the mood around me for another early pre-party. And handed me a double shot of tequila. It was 4:43 p.m. I defiantly refused, but cave after he threatens suicide. Don’t be too quick to judge it was the only liquor I ended up having that night.

Sundays nights at Union are $1-draft night, which was the plan for the evening seeing as by that point we’d all blown through much of our bank accounts. Because of my deadline I decided to meet the others there much later, and I also hoped it would keep me from drinking as much. The $1 drafts were enticing but I only had two. I was very proud of myself. However, I can’t say the same for the others.

By the time I got there Cristyn and Lamar were pretty toasted and Cristyn’s mother, Caroline, had joined them after a drunk dial from Cristyn inviting her out. Dusti had to work in the morning, so once I arrived he decided to leave and pass the designated driver duties over to me.

Here’s a short list of the events that followed:

• Lamar proceeded to flirt (very loudly) with every man in the room.
• Cristyn and Lamar stood on a raised platform on the balcony and, in front of everyone, began to dance provocatively with each another.
• At one point I muttered under my breath, “Drunk people are so annoying,” to which they both gave me an accusing death glare and replied loudly, “We know!”
• An interesting conversation started with a bartender (who had started cleaning up around, trying to single for us to leave) about weather the bar hires or not based on a person’s weight.
• Cristyn and Lamar unsuccessfully tried to carry each other back to the car, at which point I intervened and unsuccessfully tried to carry them both on my own.

Another trip to Steak ‘n’ Shake lead us back to the house and the end of the weekend that nearly killed me, for various reasons.

I could’ve died from alcohol poisoning, Brian killing me for making out with his date, the heart attack that could’ve ensued because of all the greasy fast food we were consuming, or Cristyn and Lamar’s shenanigans nearly making me crazy enough to drive the car off a ledge.

The next day I vowed never to drink again. Well, we all know that didn’t exactly stick.

Until next time,

~D.A. Steward