It seems to be crazy story-telling day…
In the interest of beating Dave to the punch (referred to in the comments of my last entry), I am going to post this story about us. It took place years ago, when we first went white-water rafting together.
We decided to go with Wilderness Tours. They have a big “Barn” facility with a bar in it, as well as a dance floor, and a patio. During the evenings, they have a party for the rafters. We decided to go to the fire pit, where there was a stage and some singing going on.
There were twelve of us, but only a few of us engaged in drinking of the heavy kind. I’m not sure if it was the Okanagan Cider, or the beer that plunged me into darkness. Perhaps it was Dave’s Sicilian Kiss (Amaretto & Southern Comfort) that sped me along the Inebriated Interstate. All I know is drinking almost an entire 26 Oz bottle of Screech after the aforementioned alcohol is probably not really a good idea.
Screech is a funny thing. This elixir of the East coast imbues one with strange powers. It granted me the power to jump up on the performance stage (where a guy was playing guitar earlier and left the microphone on) and tell a joke starting with the punch line. From there we moved to “the Barn” area where I discovered that I had the power to dance to techno while standing on some stairs (not very smooth at all). After this, my powers waned, and I decided to have a lie-down on a picnic table located on the patio of the establishment. One of the bouncers came by and told us to leave (not very politely). I told him to watch his tone. Of course, the words probably came out like a Pentecostal zealot speaking in tongues…
Dave valiantly accompanied me back to the camping area. It was slow going. I think I chundered a couple of times on the green mile back to the campsite. Dave insisted on keeping us moving, in case the Nazgul were looking for us, I guess.
Memories of that journey are hazy (I actually had to phone Dave while writing this to verify a few things). Needless to say, I knew that I passed out a couple of times. They eventually got the car to haul me back to the site. The next day I woke up fine. Rafting was fun, and no-one got injured. My mutant ability to bypass hangovers was in full effect, earning me a cool rep. But little did I know that the events of the night before were to haunt me for the rest of my life…
Two years later, we were going rafting again at the same place. We were eating some chow the night before we were to hit the river, when Dave walked up to me and asked me if he could talk to me in private, away from everyone else. I agreed, and we took our pints to another table.
” So, I’m not sure if you know this, ” Dave began, ” And I kinda wanted to tell you in private. “
” Sure, ” I replied, sipping my Sleeman’s, ” Go ahead. “
” Well, ” Dave looked at me earnestly, ” You remember the walk back to the campsite two years ago? “
” Yeah. “
” There was a point along the way back where you had to pee. So you pulled out your equipment and pissed. And then you fell over. “
” I don’t remember that. Did I fall in my own pee? “
Dave laughed, ” No. You fell off to the side, and rolled down a small hill, away from your puddle. “
” How the hell did I not notice when I woke up? “
Dave sighed again, ” I, er, did you up. “
I was taken a bit by surprise here, ” Um, what? “
Dave shook his head, ” Don’t worry, I didn’t have to do the ‘tuck‘, ” his right hand made a motion like a gopher diving under his left arm (a large gopher, I might add), ” Just the ‘zip‘. “
I looked at Dave with some amazement and admiration. He was definitely a true friend, ” Thanks man. And thanks for telling me in private. I mean, it’s not really THAT embarrassing, eh? But still, it’s nice to know before everyone else. “
” That’s what friends are for, manus, ” Dave stood up and picked up his beer, ” Let’s get back. “
We walked back to where our friends were sitting, and his girlfriend (now wife) Sarah looked up and said 7 words that made me laugh and cry at the same time….
” Did he tell you the pee story? “
Best friends are such a pain in the ass….
Filed under: Anecdotes, Friends, Spaces Archive, Top 10 |
Barking Space 
And another two years later, some further truth comes out. While I didn’t tuck you in, I did… untuck you. There was nothing sexual, so don’t worry about that. I just did a little puppetry of the penis. I turned it into The Loch Ness Monster, made The hamburger, created something called Jabba the Hutt. Before I knew it, people started tossing me change. Let’s just say I didn’t have to pay for gas on the way home.
hahha, great story….apparently you didn’t read the warning labels…check out VCW’s entry today
http://spaces.msn.com/members/vcw/
HAHA! Awesome story. So good.
VM, that blog entry was HILARIOUS!
I wish I had those labels before I had my little stint with Dave and his magic hands…
That is hilarious….
WOW….
crying now because I’m kaughing so hard…
Heee. That is a true friend, and an awesome story.
[…] You already know that Dave helped me out when I was in a pickle (or was that helped me out with my pickle?). The day after the barfy night, we all boarded the raft that would carry us on our first of many rafting adventures on the Ottawa river. The first series of rapids is known as McCoy’s Chute (by the Wilderness Tours Adventure Company, anyway). It’s relatively mild, but once every couple of minutes someone will get rocked by this sucker. We had spent a little while watching several rafts go through, and it didn’t look so bad. So when we hit the Chute, we never expected to be hit as hard as we were. The raft almost folded. Everyone in the front got thrown back (Dave got essentially catapulted, and slid all the way back and off the boat. The movie footage is hilarious). […]
[…] probably remember him from such stories as Zip and Tuck, and the ever-popular Rafting […]