Some Ladybugs are Men

My Labor Day weekend wasn't quite what it was cracked up to be.

I spent Friday NOT going to Flagstaff with my friend to see Ween on a free extra ticket that night and coming back the next morning. Instead, I spent it running around town to various doctor's offices to get examined, blood drawn, x-rayed, and EKG'd. By the time I went to pick up my prescription, it wasn't there. I had to drive back to the Doctor's office again and wring the neck of the receptionist so she could call it in again... then I had to go sit around and shove my thumbs up my ass for an hour while they counted out the right number of pills.

The entire process started at 10am and was wrapped up at 5pm. That's like a fucking full-time job... on my day off no less. Fuck.

On Saturday, I went out. Met some friends for dinner at a sports bar, then we headed out to a country bar called The Rusty Spur where my ass kept getting grabbed and rubbed on by 50 year old women. We wandered over to another local dive for a bit before deciding to call it a night.

After we left, we decided to head to a quirky German Pub that was having some sort of "gay night" rather than just heading home. I ended up only drinking about 3 or 4 cocktails altogether between all the bars we visited.

Then we all went to a friend's place to go night swimming. We grabbed some late night mexican grub and poured ourselves one more cocktail and had a swim. The rest of the night was foggy and spotty at best. All I know is that I got home at like 6:30am and had only consumed 4 or 5 alcoholic beverages between 10pm and 6am. Certainly not enough to get blackout drunk. Just the same, I remember almost nothing.

I ended up getting maybe 2 hours of sleep and felt like complete ass, but managed to get some breakfast and pull myself together enough to shower and head in to work. A few hours in to my shift, I start twitching and convulsing. With a few hours left in my shift, a supervisor asks me if I want him to call an ambulance for me. I took a nap in my car to see if I could get myself well enough to drive myself and I couldn't... so I just went ahead and did so anyway. Fuck an ambulance.

I made it home and slept for 12 hours. Still have no idea what the fuck happened. At first I wanted to blame it on being hung over, but I mean, what the fuck. How can I get progressively hung over to the point that I need an ambulance? It wasn't just me - someone else in our party ended up feeling nearly the same - or at least had the same sort of blackout. I've never blacked out in my life and I've drank way more than I did the other night. I can't even hold my alcohol - if I drank enough to get actually "blackout drunk" I would most definitely throw up.

Anyway - Sunday was horrible, and Monday (Labor Day) was just another day at work - except I had to stay later. Oh the joys of a real job.

I think it's possible one of the bartender ladyboys in hotpants dosed my drink, or maybe I ate something I shouldn't have, or maybe I just had a 24hr flu. No idea. It will probably remain a mystery forever. I probably won't drink for awhile... it was never my thing to begin with.

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