12 Bars of Christmas 2010
Or should I say, the 11 bars and *barf*. Being that this was my 5th years of 12 Bars, I decided to do something special. Like puking at Coppertank. Because I’m classy like that. But I’m getting ahead of myself!
The very first year that I went to 12 Bars, I managed to drink a drink at every bar. We are talking 12 drinks in 6.5 hours. Remember that I’m 5 ft tall – it’s pretty much inhuman that I managed to do that. And I’ve never been able to repeat that feat. Usually by around bar #7, I’m done. I drink water at the remaining bars and thus enjoy a nice time at the remaining bars, including the unofficial 13th bar we go to after the 12 bars are completed. But I always feel like such a failure, because I know that I did it that one time1! This year, however, I was feeling fine at bar #7. I even remembering saying to someone2, “I’m usually so done by Nevermind! But I’m feeling fine.” Fast forward four bars, however, and it all went downhill fast! I went to the bathroom, thinking that I just had pee, but as soon as I walked in the door, I realized that it was another bodily function that I needed to do – puke. And puke I did, right into the (very well-placed) garbage can. Some lovely people3 brought me some water and a chair to sit on. And then apparently, though I do not remember this, I went back to the table where other merry 12 Bars-ers were… and proceeded to puke in a cup. Because I am just that awesome. And then Erika kindly put me in a cab to Linda’s4. I managed to get to Linda’s without puking again, for which the cabby was very grateful5, but then I puked again when I got there. This whole thing becomes even more pathetic when you realize that we start 12 Bars at 3 pm, so it was all of 9:30 at this point! Fortunatley, I had a very good long sleep at Linda’s, waking up briefly to have some water which I immediately puked up6, but other than that sleeping straight through ’til about 10 a.m.
I took some photos, but mostly just of my drinks and honestly even looking at the photos of the drinks as I uploaded them made me a little queasy, so you’ll have to just check them out over on Flickr if you want to see them. But I do want to show you this one photo:
These guys walked into
Elwood’s Gargoyles7 while we were there. Naturally, I took their photo and then ran over and asked “Why are you dressed like a beaver?” “Because I just got my Canadian citizenship,” he said, in his British account. So I turned to the other guy and asked, “And why are you dressed as a ninja?” “I’m not a ninja, I’m supposed to be GSP.” My blank stare then elicited, “He’s a fighter. A Canadian fighter.” I think I’ll have to take the ninja’s word on that one. Later another guy, dressed in a track suit and black face joined then. Seriously, black face. “Who are you supposed to be?” I asked. To which he replied, “Ben Johnson.” Seriously, I couldn’t even make this shit up.
- Yes, I do realize that it’s very silly to think of consuming 12 drinks as anything akin to “success” [↩]
- though I have no idea who I was talking to [↩]
- again, I don’t know who most of them were, but thank you guys for looking after me! [↩]
- where I was staying for the night [↩]
- “It costs me $200 if you puke in my cab!”” he said, repeatedly [↩]
- puking up pure water is a very weird sensation [↩]
at least, I think it was Elwood’s[↩]