Last weekend, I went to the Delancey in Manhattan for some friends’ birthday bash. For the first time, I got REALLY drunk. Why yes, I’ve never been ‘drunk’ at all throughout college. I was a good kid, only going as far as ‘tipsy.’
The night did not start off that well. It was 8:30pm, and a group of us was rushing to get to Ronkonkoma for the 8:40pm train to Penn Station. We split to catch the train and park the car; 3 of us were at the door, waiting for our friends. Then, the beep went off, but no friends at sight! So we missed the train. A few seconds after departure, the phone rang; they got on the train, and we got off. Oh, the irony.
Instead, the 3 of us left behind hit the taxi in hopes of beating the train to Brentwood. Here’s a good rule: never race the train. But, the speeding taxi was a roller coaster ride =) Needless to say, we missed the train (again) and spent the next hour drinking away at a local bar. Over some tequila shots, blow-job, and beer, we quizzed each other on anatomy. Even when it comes to having a good time, medical school stays with us. Later on the train, we tried quizzing each other on head and neck, but just ended up gossiping =D
Now, the roof-top party. My 2 friends and I, we made a pact on the train while feeling defeated: when one of us drinks, we all drink. Should I mention, that was a bad idea for me? Ah, I thought I could handle it, even though I know I’m low tolerance. Let’s see, what did we drink: Long Island Iced Tea, Cherry Bomb, and something else. After the LIIT, I was already getting giggly and slurry. As I learned later, that stuff was almost pure alcohol, which means, I’m nearly knocked senseless.
And how bad of a shape was I? I could not help hitting the ladies’ room to relieve myself at least twice. I started feeling the headache and woozy feeling in my stomach. I still felt cold though, but that’s just probably my low blood pressure and poor, girly circulation; I thought I’d warm up from the alcohol. By the time we were ready to leave, I was feeling dizzy and stumbling a little; I felt… free and airy. Then, at McDonald’s, I lost it. I puked into a bag, dribbling some on the floor. One of the workers there was like “Could you take that to the bathroom? You’re getting all over my floor.” I apologized, reached down with some spare napkins, and kept scrubbing the floor. Well, I did go over to the bathroom in an urgent state of puking. It was not a good feeling to suppress while waiting. I kept knocking, but… I heard a man’s voice in the ladies’ room. Even when I was drunk, I was pissed that a man was occupying my ladies’ room! When this black guy walked out, I lightly cussed at him, “Dude, this is a women’s bathroom. Use the right bathroom.” In the meantime, he was mumbling, “You gotta wait!” I learned later that my friends saw this, really afraid this black guy was going to jump on us in fury. Anyway, throwing-up never felt so good, and it’s been years for me since I got this sick. I did this twice, and I think there were some peppers from dinner 6 hours earlier…
Okay, I’ve been a responsible adult for 22 years. For one, I’ve had my Chocolate phone for 3 years, until that night. I did not realize I lost my phone until I was heading home on the LIRR. I did vaguely remember texting some friends in the bathroom at the club, but after that, nothing. My memory was fuzzy after that, meaning I probably blacked out somewhere between McDonald’s and Penn Station. I do remember finding my way around to get to Penn Station in the frigid weather. I thought I dropped it somewhere in the club or at McDonald’s. I texted a message to notify me if the phone is found, to no avail =( The next day, I called the club and the fast food joint, to no avail. I called my own phone a few times too, and no answer… until the evening. Out of all people to find my phone, it had to be… a HOBO.
At this point, I was thrilled that someone picked up my phone. I have my contacts, pictures, Asian ringtones, cute decorations, etc… At first, I thought this guy was part of the MTA, and the fact he was mumbling he was a homeless guy did not register in my head. And this freak of a hobo said to me, “This is my phone now. I found it on the F train. I found it. If you want it. You have to pay me money. You know, I can sell this phone to anyone on the streets, you know.” So this bum on my phone, getting his grime and sickness on my Chocolate, demanded $30, or else he was going to make some doe to feed his alcohol addiction. He made a big point to NOT call the cops. When I played along and asked him where to meet, he responded, “Ab duh, I’m a homeless person… I’m on 14th Street.” I was thinking, “Oh great, this bum is blackmailing me for my phone, and to not call the cops and to meet him at 1pm at Union Square.” On top of all this bologna, he already stalked through my stuff and figured out I’m an Asian girl: “So, you’re Chinese? I saw your pictures…” Not like I have incriminating naked pictures of myself on there, but I guess my contact list, jingling key chains, and Taeyang ringtone, I gave myself away. I guess I sounded nice enough on the phone that he lowered the price to $25, like it’s some bargaining game.
I was freaked out after this conversation. First, I’d have to deal with my parents; I was fearing a lecture on responsibility and maturity. Also, I was afraid of losing my SIM card out there, in the middle of manic Manhattan. My information would all be stored on this one chip. Plus, I have a considerable number of contacts on there; this hobo could be randomly calling up my friends and using up my minutes like he’s pumping for gold. Luckily, I did not go out to meet this guy alone, because my safety comes first. Even if I did have male bodyguards with me, I still had anatomy lab; medical school still matters. I suspended my account and saved myself $50, getting a new Android in the meantime on an overdue upgrade. Perhaps, this was meant to be… I still cannot help but feel like a failure at life here, since I got drunk for the first time, in medical school, and lost a valuable. Plenty of people have run through such mishaps, but I never imagined myself making mistakes like these. I do not think I want to ever get that sick again, though I have to admit, I like being that happy and carefree under the influence. As a common saying goes, “Live and learn.”
I finished watching 11/18/10 episode of Grey’s Anatomy titled, “Slow Night, So Long,” and it reminded me of this one drunken night.
Dr. Altman: “Ah god, I’m really drunk.”
Dr. Bailey: “A man who can talk FISTULAS,” when Teddy was slurring about dating men from the internet.
Callie: “I hate being drunk. You think it’s going to make you feel awesome and happy. But, it just makes you feel tired and gross.”
Callie: “I want sorbet, now…”
When did “sorbet” become a signal for “sex”??!!
In the opening of the episode, Dr. Grey mentions busy doctors working late at night, when most accidents happen as a result. The sleep deprived residents wake up, 6pm, making breakfast for dinner, before beginning the morbid overnight shift. The other half of the doctors leave for the day, heading out to celebrate and chill at a local bar.
What’s up with doctors and bars? Doctors and alcohol… Oh the irony. It’s funny watching goofy and giggly Dr. Bailey, Altman, Callie, Christina… I felt the same exact way as all the drunken doctors on the show. I hate comparing myself to a medical drama, but I guess I’ve stepped in their scrubs by chance.
Dr. Bailey: “Come here. Closer. closer. Alex Karev is not the man to take your maiden voyage with!.. YOu take your maiden voyage with a nice boy, a kind boy, a boy who LOVES you… a boy you love so much you’ll super glue yourself to him…”
In regards to detaching the love-struck couple who are inseparable, literally:
Dr. Bailey: “Use soap and water…” (eyes closed, cool”
April: “On my maiden voyage?”
Dr. Bailey: “No, the super glue! And a little bit of acetone.”
On the way home back at 6am, over pizza and some sunshine again, Alex says, “Who’s up for a beer?”
Grey’s Anatomy, it never fails to teach me so much about life as a budding doctor, in just a matter of time. Now, I just wish medical school were like a Glee musical =)