and the award for most eventful friday morning goes to....

me. me me me me. we'll begin the story thursday evening...

we had friday off because it was nevada day, so several of us decided to go out and celebrate the fact that we didn't have to be up at 5am. (hooray!) we went to a bar on the strip called blondie's, because they have beer pong tables. i rode down with my friend mike, because i didn't want to drive, and he lives on this side of town. we get down there and realize that on thursdays they have a beer pong tournament, which mike and our other friend sam promptly entered. caroline, lacey, and i sat and played cheerleader for the evening. i figured it was not a big deal that mike (my sober driver) was in the tournament, because i figured he'd lose early and we'd be fine. he didn't lose. until the last game. which came after about 10 other games. and as many of you know, when one plays beer pong, one imbibes a large amount of alcohol in a short amount of time. like my friend mike. luckily, i hadn't been drinking that night, so i was fine to drive his car home. i wasn't about to let him drive, and i certainly wasn't going to take a $70 cab ride from the strip to my house. i decided that since i had stayed sober, i got to decide where i slept that night, and my bed sounded more comfy than mike's couch, so i decided to drive us to my house so he could sleep on my couch.

mike was drunkity drunk drunk drunk. past the point of being funny and squarely into annoying and ridiculous territory. he passed out in the car on he way home--i was afraid he wouldn't wake up. so we get to my house, and i have to lead him in by the hand, because he can't walk. i put him on the couch, give him a bucket, show him the bathroom, and go to bed. the next morning, i get up, my roommate alison and i make fun of him and the morning gets off to a fairly pleasant start. we're sitting watching tv, and mike says he's ready to leave and i get his keys out of their hiding spot (i was afraid he'd find them in the middle of the night and try to drive home) and he puts on his shoes. and then he says something strange: "this is where it gets embarassing..." i kind of look at him, because in my mind, stumbling out of the casino and passing out in the car were embarrassing enough. here's what he says to me (and this is a direct quote)

"last night, in my drunkenness...i pissed myself."

this is the point where i remember that he was lying on my roommate's (very expensive) couch when the pissing occurred. he quickly explains that he'll dry clean the cover, and proceeds to take it off and leave the house. alison (my roommate) and i both buy different kinds of urine cleaner (marketed for people with pets, but appropriate for people with drunk friends) to spray down the cushion, thus eliminating all traces of urine (hopefully) from it.

the cover has been dry-cleaned, the cushion has been sprayed down, and that particular section of couch has been moved to the far end where we never sit. we've also christened it "the pee cushion."

there's a moral to this story: if your friend is super drunk and there's a possibility they might pee their pants, don't let them sleep on your couch. or anything else with fabric. the garage floor might be a nice option. or just put plastic down. or newspaper. like with puppies.

before that (unpleasant) turn of events, there had been a really high point to the evening: my friend lacey had been talking to a british guy, and by the end of the evening, i was sitting at a table with five british guys, and they loved me. i kept calling them english, but then the scottish guy would get mad, because he wasn't english. they were members of the royal air force, in town to pick up some "equipment" (alien spaceship) from nellis air force base (area 51). it was really fun. caroline said that when she left, she looked up and saw me at a table with five guys just hanging on my every word. i enjoyed it.

adriane, i'm sorry. i'll try to be better. you have learned, however, that death threats are excellent motivation.