If you have ever been tossed out of a bar or a party you know how embarrassing it can feel—especially if you have vomited all over that outrageously priced silk shirt (purchased at Wal-Mart), or your (pleated) slacks are nestled comfortably around your ankles. But the worst thing about it isn’t the embarrassment you are witnessing, but the internal rage you have for that person who flung you from good graces into the cold night and into someone’s dysfunctional, hodgepodge garden, or that gum, urine, and vomit incrusted sidewalk or ally next to that “oh so cool” establishment.
We have all been thrown into the situation: facedown, sprawled out, shamefaced with multiple onlookers pointing and scolding—their acrimony infuriating you more than the reason why you were kicked out in the first place. If you have ever been tossed out of a bar or a party you know how embarrassing it can feel—especially if you have vomited all over that outrageously priced silk shirt (purchased at Wal-Mart), or your (pleated) slacks are nestled comfortably around your ankles. But the worst thing about it isn’t the embarrassment you are witnessing, but the internal rage you have for that person who flung you from good graces into the cold night and into someone’s dysfunctional, hodgepodge garden, or that gum, urine, and vomit incrusted sidewalk or ally next to that “oh so cool” establishment.
We allget that diabolical rage flowing through our (alcohol saturated) veins when we get impetuously booted from a bar or party; but that doesn’t mean that in your last-ditch effort to save face that you should stumble back into the party with that jaunty flowerpot with the crack in it—which expresses your edgy side—resting magnificently on your noble crown, or embark into the backyard to steal plastic lawn furniture in the name of “going green.” No, when you get kicked out of any social situation, the best bet is to get your-intoxicated-self off the street and into bed before you become spontaneously incarcerated in a cell. These are the things you should not do after just being kicked out of a bar or a party. And if this has never happened to you or you think that it won’t happen to you: keep drinking—it will.
1. Don’t get all “Jason Bourne” on everyone
Your quick and jerky spasms might appear like swift and lethal blows in your mind, but they actually resemble the thrusting convulsions of an epileptic monkey. Don’t attempt to fight the bouncers or the people removing you from the property. Chances are they are NOT nearly as drunk as you are, and they definitely haven’t just pissed themselves (which may or may not be the reason you are being removed from the premises).
2. Don’t mask your emotion with defecation
It’s never a good decision to defecate on the host’s car—or any car for that matter. There is a reason why you have been kicked out: because your sloppy communication skills and ineptitude for balance, in your current state, has left you a complete train-wreck with absolutely no equilibrium. So climbing aboard the SS Shit-Show (to leave your mark) isn’t just a bad idea for it’s uncouth and unseemly elements, but also, because when you take the position to “do the deed” there is a good chance that your reckless instability will get the best of you and down you will go onto the hood of the car and into that nice big pile of…your sanity. And trying to go back into the house to use the facilities to clean yourself, after your slip-up, is just downright out of the question.
Host: “What’s that? You have shit all over yourself?”
You: “Grable may pants, an ah slip da doodoo.”
Host: “Why yes you can come back inside to clean the shit off of yourself. Please, make yourself at home.”
No, this will definitely not happen. You will meet the garden once again when they hurl you, for the second time, off the porch; and it will be down there where you will find your missing dignity (between the tulips and the Corona bottle).
3. Don’t make a scene…anymore than you already have
Embarrassing yourself because you can’t control your bladder functions or motor skills is one thing, but yelling up at your assailants that you “will be back” is so cliché that you are not only going to supply that entire party or bar with jokes to last the night, but you are going to feel unequivocally “douchey” when you mutate back into your normal self the morning after and realize the verbal diarrhea that you shat out the night before. Do you think they will fear your imminent reappearance, suddenly in control of all your faculties to reestablish your honor? No. They will watch you stumble across the street and yell at a trashcan for 7 minutes until you, once again, lose your sanity and attempt to suplex the trashcan onto the hood of a minivan.
4. Don’t call your friends
This is your fight…or drunken stupor: don’t involve your friends in your cancerous behavior. Drunken brawls and things of that nature are probably some of the reasons you have been excommunicated in the first place. And do you really want your friends to see that you have crapped yourself. No, I didn’t think so. Keep that cell phone in your pocket and go home, or to Jimmy John’s, and then home.
5. Don’t try and sneak back in
Partygoer #1: “Hey, who is the new guy with the disheveled clothing and unkempt hair?”
Partygoer #2: “Why, whoever he is, I am quite smitten with his debonair stumbling and refined ramblings.”
It might sound or appear like everyone around you thinks you are the perfect little partier, in your heavily saturated head, but this is not the case. The partygoers or bar patrons will not find your resilient desire to come and join the festivities, once more, entertaining. They will find you caustic, grotesque, and highly volatile. Do yourself and everyone else in the party or bar a favor and stay outside where you can mutter to yourself and scream at all the lampposts you want. Don’t bring your psychotic drama back inside.
Everyone will find themselves in that inexcusable state of intoxication once or twice in their lives (definitely depending on how much you drink). It is not glamorous; you are not a pleasure to be around; and you have no business being left to your own devices in the middle of the night. Do yourself a favor and pass out in a gutter or call a cab, but don’t try and regain some sort of dignity by your own personal way of saving face. Nobody wants to hear your excuse of why you barfed on the 50-inch plasma, or why you sneaked into the girl’s bathroom and started peeing in the corner. At this point in your drunken misadventure you must come to terms with looking like a jackass. The only logical thing to do now is call a taxi, a friend, a parent or priest—whoever, just go home and go to bed.