Twenty One

Do you remember your 21st birthday? I remember mine. It was spent a a TGIFridays with my mom, UAE, Viking, and Uncle, where I had a roasted vegetable sandwich and a giant, blue, frozen margarita with a fish topped glass stir stick. Very tame. These days? Yeah, kids don't celebrate like that.

Upstairs Kid's birthday was Sunday and on Saturday he invited me to his party. Sure, I thought, why not pretend I'm a normal person who does this sort of thing? Huge mistake because 1: yeah, I'm not a normal human being and 2: I'm 31. I drove him downtown and found a parking spot after we found a place without any obvious signage stating that it was illegal. "I better not get towed, mother fucker. And remember, I'm parked on a slant." We went to his buddy's place, a really nice apartment in a building that used to be some sort of hospital and started the night off with 100 proof cinnamon schnapps mixed with apple juice soda (yes, that exists). Before long, the apartment was filled with a bunch of chemistry grad students, all but one of whom was much younger than I. I knew this was going to be the case but figured, meh, I'll be the oldest and can wow them with my knowledge of such things as a 401K, health benefits, and the 8 to 5 workaday world. We actually talked about all sorts of things from heavy metal, the Wu-Tang Clan, and how Austria's greatest trick was convincing the world that Hitler was German and Bach was Austrian. OK, so at one point I may have started yelling about how Paterno fucking dropped the ball and was not blameless because if you see or hear about a child rape, you go to the fucking police and not 'university police' (sorry dude, I don't usually do that. I usually only get really passionate about people not voting in this country when I'm drunk). But all in all, it was a good time and I spent part of the evening with the older guy, looking up his operating physician, explaining health insurance appeal rights, and what he should do in the future should he ever need to.

Around midnight, we walked to a local bar so that Upstairs Kid could be served his first legal drink. Based on the size and brightness of the sign, and the fact that it was three deep at the bar, I'm assuming it was a popular place. I actually ran into a kid that I'd met months earlier and that was rad. I talked to some other random friend of Upstairs Kid about HP Lovecraft. And I drank. A lot. My night started with the schnapps apple juice soda drink and, I believe, ended up with Guinness, but I had snake bite shots and at least one tequila shot in between. I also fell a few times. OK, I was fucked up, but if I'd been wearing different shoes, I might have been upright for longer (I pronate wickedly and before I knew this, I couldn't wear heals. That night, I was wearing snow boots with a wedge heal.) Still, I had fun.

Until I didn't. At one point, I had that moment of "shit, I'm drunk. Yeah, I'm done." So I did what anyone in my state might do, I left. Without telling anyone. I stumbled outside and started walking with the idea of getting to my car. I knew we weren't on the street where I parked but, come on, if you are drunk and you keep walking on the same street, you'll come to the right one eventually right? Fortunately, I didn't meet my car. Instead, I met some pavement and then, after I righted myself and kept stumbling, I met two very nice girls who had either been there themselves or hoped they'd find themselves if they were ever in the same situation, and they helped me to a cab. God bless the midwest and their nice people! These girls didn't even give me a hard time for being shitfaced, alone, and downtown! No, they were just very nurturing and caring and "no, it's OK. Really! Come on, we're going to get you home." How they hailed a cab in Columbus, I don't know. The cab driver must have had a sister or a daughter my age because he took my drunken ass fare and got me home.

Where I collapsed. OK, so he dropped me off a building away and I didn't realize it until I walked into a building and thought "hmm. I don't live here." Then I went to my building, took off my pants, and got under the covers. Sweet sleep! Until... sometime in the middle of the night, Upstairs Kid was sitting on my bed waking me up. He'd been really worried, regardless of his friends saying "she's 30, she can take care of herself!" so he used his key (he has taken care of Johan for me), let himself in, saw that I was in bed, and woke me up to double check. I then proceeded to spend the night taking care of his drunk ass. We sat in my bathroom whilst he held his head over the toilet. I brought him water and an apple (electrolytes?) and just spoke to him. Eventually, I realized he probably wasn't going to puke so I got him into my bed, put a bucket by his side, rubbed his back and assured him it was OK and that he'd be fine.

He was, of course, and he didn't even puke! In the morning we got a neighbor to drive us downtown to pick up my car, where we found, oh, wait, there was a do not park sign! Thus, I had been towed and we then had to find the impound lot. That was fun, going to the lot, where Upstairs Kid insisted on paying and spent some time trying to get cash from the ATM. Whilst he fucked with that, two EMO club kids came in for their car. One of them started talking trash about how he hoped he was never some sad fuck who worked at an impound lot and hungover asshole over here called him out, asked what he did for a living (teaching assistant) and then told him that he was no better than anyone, that I'm white trash and have a better job but that I'm no better than impound guy or EMO guy and that I didn't appreciate his pretentious, judgmental attitude. Upstairs Kid and I had to go outside so we could go to a bank to get the cash and neighbor said "dude, I think you made that kid shit his pants."

We got the cash and my car and then some McDonalds breakfast so all was well. But we both just laughed our asses off because we'd had a great time with some really random shit, my falling in public and then peacing out without word to anyone, his busting into my place and waking me up, the whole adventure that was getting my car. I'm not proud of my behavior and certainly wish I'd had more than a few pieces of cheese before I went out to the celebration, but I'm sure Upstairs Kid's friends have a story to tell and so do I. Plus, you know, life lessons and character building and all that shit.

All in all, I learned two things. 1: A 21st birthday is to be remembered. And 2: just because your friend is turning 21, does not mean that you are the same age.