Ninja Drunk

Ninja Drunk: To wit, the onset of a sudden and unexpected drunkenness that assails you stealthily despite any intentions of sobriety. Named for the practitioners of the arts of unseen assassination, the condition known as "Ninja Drunk" strikes without warning, leaving the victim horribly scarred and badly damaged, often before any real consciousness of the drunkening arrives. Most cases result in a period of PTHD, or Post-Traumatic Hangover Disorder, that leaves the victim incapable of performing basic functions for a long period of time following the catastrophe.

So last night, I got Ninja Drunk. Not sure how it happened, as I really (by my standards) didn't drink all that much. To be fair, I really hadn't eaten a lot of food that day, and I was fairly tired after seven hours at the coffee shop grading and reading and watching the snow fall. But still, the immediate switch from sobriety to insane drunkenness was shocking, particularly since my awareness jumps from about 10:30 Saturday night to 8:00 Sunday morning, when I awoke on top of my covers, still wearing my clothes and glasses. I've basically spent the rest of the day trying to come to terms with my near assassination by evil Ninja Bourbon (perhaps the dark counterpart to the Bourbon Samurai).

Using this as an excuse, then, I offer you a post I've been pondering for some time. The Top Five Drunken Experiences of Dubs. Note, these are not necessarily the drunkest experiences of my career. They're simply the most memorable (or not, given the amount consumed), the ones that come to mind when I ponder the really great drunken times of my life. These are presented in no particular order, and I make no judgments on those who choose to drink or not drink. Think of this as a way to kill a lot of time when you should be writing a seminar paper or doing work.

1. Housewarming at the Wudan.

Or, as I consider it, "The Harry Potter Night." I've told this story too many times; therefore I won't rehash it again. If you're one of the very few who hasn't heard it, ask me sometime when I've had a drink or two. It's quite the tale. And it even forced my fellow band of reprobates to include a new rule into the Drinking Tournament Code that we later drafted.

2. New Year's Eve, 2002-2003.

New Year's in Chicago. One of the greatest cities in the world, at our disposal, and of course we choose to have an apartment party and get trashed there. We started drinking at around 7:00, and we didn't let up until everyone was hammered and gone. Memi decided it'd be swell to mix all the alcohols she liked into one uber-alcohol, which tasted like the underside of a bus on a snowy day. I think it actually started to curdle. Bluesman and J.D. decided to polish off a bottle of 18 year old Scotch (Glenmorangie, I believe). I believe I was drinking bourbon, probably Booker's or Knob Creek. We had a fair amount of people there (McJew might remember who else came, as he was definitely there for the bulk of the evening and left around 6 a.m. to catch the El back to Evanston), and we were all pretty much gone by around 10:00 or so. Epic way to close out the year we graduated college. Spent the next day so hungover that we couldn't move. (Well, the men at least. The women went out dancing or some such tomfoolery, while the men stayed at home, watched The Time Machine, Deuce Bigalow, and then played Mystery Mansion. All without ever leaving the futon, or even folding it back into couch position.)

3. The 40s Party

Also known as the great showdown between the East Side and the West Side gangs of Madison grad students. East Siders wore green, West Siders wore yellow I believe. East Siders were clearly the dominant group, and upheld the pride and dignity of our side of town. That night, I was challenged to a drink-off of a second 40, having already pounded one by myself (though to be fair, these were 40s of beer, not malt liquor, which might very well have killed us). Because I'm stupid, I agreed. To my shame, I lost this challenge. But win or lose, we're all winners when we drink more. This was also the night I stumbled in the bathroom and tore down Winter's shower curtain (which I tried to fix and ended up damaging even more). I believe this night I also attempted to attack some skateboarders on the way home.

4. My 26th Birthday

This one holds a great place in my heart, though I don't remember all that much of it. We were all out at a bar, and everyone kept buying me drinks. Apparently, my decision to drink mostly beer as a means of staying in the race longer meant that everyone would instead buy me shots. I was actually managing to hang in there, until the then head of the graduate English program, The Absent-Minded Professor (who was at the bar with another group), bought me a very large glass of bourbon. I have no memories after this, but that alone gives the night a huge ratings boost. Apparently after that, we went to a cigar bar. This is confirmed by the fact that I woke up and my clothes reeked of smoke and my mouth felt like an ashtray.

5. Dubsgiving

I consider all of Dubsgiving one drunken experience, and I'd hate to have to choose between "The Night of the Five Beer Boats" and "Let's Go to a Bar Night 2: Return of the Revenge of the Blood." I've chronicled the full details here and here, so take a look if you haven't read them already. They're long, and will waste a lot of time you could be writing seminar papers.

Runners Up

-The Night of the Cherry Flavored Whiskey (chronicled here by Bourbon Samurai)
-The Othello cast party (the night of the animal crackers)
-DrunkCataz
-The Measure for Measure party (where I remained drunk until about 3 p.m. the following day, despite having friends over for an afternoon gathering).
-Really any time we went to the Wudan.

I'm sure there are others, but I was probably too drunk to remember them.

(Readers are now invited to offer their own stories of inebriation, so I don't feel like the only drunk in the blogodrome. New Yorkers especially, I'm looking at you. Largely because none of you blog anymore.)