“The Closed Container” – an inconspicuously intoxicating commentary on the capped life

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Photo by Juliana Bernstein. http://jbgettiny.tumblr.com/

Staring blankly (drunkenly) and the faint (annoying) glow of my computer I mulled over the nights events. Exactly 6 hours ago I was passed out in exhaustion in bed, excited to maybe do something delightfully nerdy on a saturday night – maybe take a 20 minute power nap then watch an art or WWll documentary somewhere online. In the midst of looking for something worthy of watching on HBOGO, I hear my door bang open and I immediately knew how drastically my night’s plans were about to change. “What’s up sleepyhead?? Here put this sweater on, I brought you some whiskey”. How I didn’t see this exact scenario coming is beyond me. Pulling my duvet well above my head I groaned. UGHHH. Quickly I did some calculations and realized I could be off the hook for being social tomorrow if I just went to Groove at the Grove with her now. Besides, it was close and I could totalllllyy disappear after we ran into a larger crowd of our friends. Reluctantly I piled on two sweaters, filled a flask and didn’t even bother letting anyone know I was leaving seeing as I would be home soon. Thinking back to that moment, again I realize how ridiculous the thought was -like I would really get away with that.

Just 10 minutes later I find myself triple fisting whiskey, boxed wine, and a smokey IPA. This must be why people think I’m a party animal. I’m sitting next to the speakers and staring at the Camp Sec lady that keeps staring at me. What does she want? If she was gonna say something about me drinking she should have done it by now. If she was gonna say something about me smoking, she should have done it by now. I guess she’s probably just confused at my size and how much I’m drinking. Or maybe she thinks i’ll spill something on the speakers. She probably just thinks I’m another silly delinquent and doesn’t want me to pass out on her watch or whatever.

Anyway.

20 minutes later I’m towering above everyone dancing on a table top enjoying the view (i’m too short to see anything otherwise). This is why I follow her whenever she tries to drag me out  of bed. This feeling of exhilaration I feel as my eyes coast over the crowd. So many faces I don’t know, and so many more that I do. The bliss I see roll through the crowd alongside the waves of music coming from Cloud Charmer and the others. It’s wonderful, really.

Anyway.

2 hours and a half of a pack of marlboros later I fall off said table.

I’m getting tired. I find a chair to sit in and space out wondering about the collective vibe of the place. Very nice, the ambiance of purity permeates everyone and draws in many a passerby.

Anyway.

1.5 hours later, sitting on the kitchen counter of a house party (falling asleep).

“We gotta wake you up!! Here I brought you some wine and better whiskey” I lift my head off my arm and stare at her wondering what kind of crazy party fairy she is. I down the whiskey and use the wine as chaser. Soon enough I find myself passively involved in a somehow intense game of stack cup. I get into the groove of chugging every other beer, and throwing the rest inconspicuously over my shoulder. It ends up working pretty well aside from the fact that I find myself freezing and kind of dripping with beer. I check my watch and it’s 3am and I can’t tell if it’s time to turn in.

45 minutes later, “Hey wanna finish this whiskey then head home?”. Obviously.

Happy Birthday Ned 😉

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