The Drunken Hobbit {the time I got kicked out of a club}

Now, this may come as a shock to you but… I like to drink. I’m not talking YES LUSHING EVERY NIGHT! ALL THE BEER FOREVER!

But I do enjoy beer, and I enjoy obtaining a buzz. Curiously since I’ve become a mom, I do not enjoy being drunk anymore. During my chorus retreat last month I got ridiculously drunk. Like, exclaiming to anyone who would listen to me how drunk I was drunk. Singing at the top of my lungs drunk. I’m surprised I didn’t vomit drunk.

I digress. Before I became a mom, I drank relatively frequently. I also – brace yourself – drank in bars before I was 21. I didn’t have a fake ID; I just knew people who knew people. When I was 20 years old, however, something happened that made me vow never to drink (in public) while underage ever again.

I got thrown out of a club and Joshua almost lost his driver’s license.

I was working at a restaurant at the time and one of my coworkers was participating in this “hot bikini contest” thing. I made plans to go to the 18+ club with two other coworkers, and Joshua. Since I “wouldn’t be able to drink at the club”, I decided to pregame at my apartment. I don’t remember what I drank or how much, but by the time my coworkers L and K got to my place I was pretty toasty. Josh and I loaded up into his truck (he was NOT drinking) and headed out to the club.

I had left my ID at home like an idiot, so when we got to the door we almost didn’t get in. I swore up and down that I was over 18 and the bouncer at the door gave me the stink eye. He grabbed my hands and drew big, fat black X’s on them with a permanent marker to signify that I wasn’t 21. Then he took Joshua’s driver license.
“If she leaves here drunk,” he gruffed, “It’s on you.”

I pranced inside, feeling good and ready to have fun. We found a high-top table to sit at. I eyeballed it for a second, because for one thing I was drunk and for another, I am a Hobbit. Shortest ever. So tall chair + drunk Hobbit = bad idea. But Josh helped me climb up onto the chair and I sat, feet swinging.

Things get foggy around this point. I do remember that I had convinced L and K (which wasn’t hard) to sneak me shots. Red-headed sluts.  At one point, I thought that it would be a superb idea to join some hot girls out on the dance floor. I was, after all 20 years old and much thinner than I am now so I, too, was somewhat of a hottie. A dorky hottie with no fashion sense, but a hottie nonetheless. So I slid/fell off of my chair and strutted out onto the dance floor.

My dancing experience is a blur of hair, skirts, me rubbing my boobs in an attempt to be sexy and the song “Yeah”. I remember at one point trying to “get low, get low” and almost not being able to get back up, up again. Let’s just say that I’m thanking the gods that no one had a video camera trained on me and my drunken, writhing glory. I probably looked like I was having a drooling, boob-rubbing seizure.

Satisfied that I had properly convinced every man in the club that I was undeniably the sexiest lady in history, I made my way back to the table. I have absolutely no idea how long we were there but in my foggy memory it seems like it was approximately a month and a half. I vaguely remember the contest, maybe some more dancing and definitely some more shots. At one point I had to go to the bathroom, and Josh offered to go with me. I denied his company and headed toward the ladies’ room.

When I got into the stall, I noticed that the latch on the door was broken and swung both forward and backward. Not a big deal, I did one of those “sit and lean forward slightly to hold the door and pray to baby Jesus that no one comes barreling into your stall” things. I did my business, and after I’d stood back up and gotten my pants/skirt/whatever the hell I was wearing back up I stumbled forward and crashed into the door. It swung outward and I went flying with it, crashing against the wall in the process. I giggled a little bit, and a woman standing at the sink washing her hands turned to look at me. She eyeballed me second before her eyes fell on the big, black X’s drawn on the tops of my hands.
“You’re drunk,” she said somewhat accusingly. It was then that I noticed her server’s apron, and I realized that she was a waitress here.
“Uhhhh,” I argued.
The conversation gets a little fuzzy, but it involved her coming after me and bitching me out about drinking underage in the club. Did I realize that they could be fined for this, and lose their liquor license? I argued with her, saying that I was drunk when I got there and hadn’t been drinking. She called my bluff and continued her accusatory lecture. I then lamely said that it was cool, I was a server too.


She led me out of the bathroom, telling me she wasn’t going to rat me out but I was to leave NOW. I told her I had to get my boyfriend because he was my ride. She dragged me over to Josh, who was sitting looking very bored. His expression turned to one of…….. Er. Well. I don’t really remember. The waitress explained the situation to him and told him that we both had to leave right then. I looked at him pitifully and he just kind of stared at me. He leaned me against him, put his arm around me and hissed,
“Lean against me and don’t. Say. Anything.”

We walked back to the door where the bouncer was waiting. We stopped and Josh told him he needed his ID back. The bouncer flipped through his collection of driver licenses, landed on Josh’s and held it out. His gaze found me and he furrowed his brow.
“Wait a minute. Is she-”
Josh cut him off by snatching his ID, saying a hasty “Thanks!” and ushering me out the door.

As soon as we were in his truck with the doors shut I burst out into sobbing, hiccupy tears. I apologized profusely for almost getting him in trouble between my drunken wails.

That’s where my memory of the evening ends. I don’t remember the drive home, going to bed, or anything else. All I know is that the next morning I awoke with a horrible hangover and a vow to never drink in a bar or club again until I was 21.

Interested in Daddy Green’s perspective of all of this? Read all about his side of the story here.