FML – Fuck My Liver

Let me start off by saying, marriage is not necessarily a bad thing. Really, it isn’t. But if you are some kind of deviant, marriage won’t help that.

Back Story

My buddy, Tate, was a complete man-whore in college. How he earned the nickname “Nasty”:

• Threesomes with no rubbers in Cancun (they looked safe) – the one girl was also “bouncing” between him and his buddy at the same time
• Kissing and getting head off a girl who already blew some one else earlier that night (not in Cancun)
• He took more STD tests than I took tests in college
• Cheated on every girlfriend
• Got caught cheating on every girlfriend
• Strongly believed “fucking five 2′s is the equivalent to a 10″

Tate decided he is old enough now that his next move should be marriage.  He found a nice Jewish girl (he’s catholic) who could possibly stand him the rest of his life. I mean they took care of a dog together and he lived in her house… Wedding bells were about to be rung.

The Wedding

Ace and I rent our tuxes and make the trip down south.  Now I had a girlfriend, and unlike Ace, I’m not scummy.  So the wedding to me has no appeal but getting drunk.  I started the morning off with a  mimosa and a $20 tip to our open-bar bartender.  You can guess how the rest of the day went.

By 5PM it was time to head down town as Ace said.  We took a limo ride to Baltimore and roll into the bar in tuxes, and the bride even has her wedding dress on.  I put down my bank card and the shots and drinks flow.

We are in a city where a) no one knows who we are b) we have freaking tuxes on. It’s impossible to have trouble talking to girls. I walked up to a group of decent girls and asked them how they liked my hair, as I had recently been growing it longer.  I opened it up and then called in the closer… and this is where I black out.

The rest of this story is from other people telling me what happened.

The Black-Out

It’s always time to leave the bar when you pull the move I did.  Someone walked up to the group and congratulated the bride and said how cool it was we were all out so, I pulled out my lighter and lit it an inch from his face…  So… a friend and I apparently hopped into a cab.  We take the cab to our hotel, and I guess I fell asleep on the way home.

We get to our hotel, and my friend pays and then walks into the hotel and can’t find me.  Seconds later he hears a women scream.  She runs into the hotel absolutely terrified and claims there is a man in her car.  They start to call the police when my friend intervened and said he might know who it is.  Sure enough, I was already passed out in her backseat.

He grabbed me and threw me inside, where I immediately went to the hotel bar to buy two beers and double-fist.  Realizing I don’t have my cell phone (I left it in the cab), I got the urge to call my girlfriend.  I went to the room where I kept trying to dial out.  The front desk person at the hotel would keep answering, and I would keep saying the same thing “How do I dial out?” She’d tell me and I’d hang up, and then I’d call her again.  She said I called ten times.

I figured out that I don’t actually know my girlfriend’s new cell phone number… but I know my brother has it.  I placed 20 calls to my brother trying to get the number.  He didn’t answer a single call.

The people at the front desk were telling stories about me all morning. I was the talk of the Hyatt…I owed $120 for the phone bill… but it’s all good, because I accidentally put my expired debit card down at the bar and didn’t have to pay the $200+ tab. The guy who didn’t get laid in Ace’s story had to HA HA!