A Series of Inebriated Regrets: Part 1
If you are a regular consumer of alcohol, you know it’s pretty difficult to walk through the ring of liquor-fueled fire and leave with your dignity time and time again. It's therefore no surprise that sometimes you wake up in the morning with embarrassing burns or, God forbid, Snapchat stories.
In the wake of these hilarious anecdotes though, we should remember that June is National Safety Month, which is pretty timely considering the month kicks off summertime soirees often fueled by booze, booze, and more booze – a breeding ground for crazy stories that will come back to haunt you. It is always important to remain aware of yourself and your alcohol intake when drinking; the consequences can sometimes go way beyond a funny "Remember that time when..." story. According to recent studies, "roughly two out of three U.S. college students have regretted how they've acted after drinking." Yikes. The four stories we bring to you today are varied and, yes, hilarious stories of nights that have produced some serious regrets (and hangovers) – tales for both caution and amusement. Sip smart, folks.
The Hazy Honeymoon: It was my wedding night – well, technically, my courthouse elopement night – and I had never been drunk before. A friend had surprised my husband and me with a hotel room for the night since it was, you know, a county courthouse elopement. The clerk told us that we had been granted a “honeymoon package,” which meant a bottle of champagne. I am pretty underweight due to a medical condition, but I figured, what better time to try drinking than my quasi-honeymoon? I had one small glass and proved (not surprisingly) to be the definition of lightweight; after 15 minutes I was giggling hysterically, trying to shove the cork back into the bottle, and ended up ripping my freshly-pierced nose ring out and losing it. We made a late night Wal-Mart run for a replacement, and my husband bought me a pink teddy bear that said “Princess,” prompting me to break down sobbing and whisper “I’m your princess” in the car all the way back to the hotel. I was sick all the next day and haven’t had any alcohol since, but we are still married.
The Nonexistent Night: A bunch of my friends and I were swimming and drinking in my backyard. Literally all I can remember is that we shouted “TO SUMMER 2012!” and started blasting Kesha. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital and being told that I had been in a coma for 26 hours.
The Unlawful Urinal: It was one in the morning; I was hammered and peeing behind a dumpster because I just couldn’t hold it until my friends and I reached the pizza place we were heading to. I had the classic Gatorade-with-vodka bottle in my hands when a police car rolled by, and I decided this was a good time to run and catch up with my friends. Wrong. The siren immediately started blasting behind me, so I thought the best course of action was to discard the bottle and slow to a walk. They weren’t fooled, though, and as soon as the cops hopped out of the car they asked me what was in the bottle and what I had been doing behind the dumpster, to which I responded “Uh Gatorade…and some vodka” and “Ughhh peeing.” My next memory is waking up with a $250 ticket for an open container violation, which is apparently a less serious charge than public urination.
The Sacrilegious Sightseer: I was on a trip to Paris with a group of students, and we decided our first night there would consist of an alcohol-fueled party. We had planned ahead (I was splitting a handle of cheap vodka with a buddy) so we were ready to go with our alcohol as soon as we reached our hotel. We wasted no time getting obliterated in an empty parking lot and I finished off the vodka by the time a janitor chased us all back to our rooms. We stayed up and I continued drinking wine, culminating in my inevitable fate – vomiting and passing out still holding the toilet. I somehow made it back to my bed because that’s where I woke up before our early tour of the city the next morning. I had (and still have) never felt so hungover in my life, but we were prepared on the bus with a roll of trash bags should anyone need to puke. This came in handy when we reached our first landmark; it was so beautiful, but I couldn’t even hold my camera up to capture it. A friend offered to cover for me at this point, and that is the story of how I vomited into a trash bag in front of the Notre Dame Cathedral.
Feature photo by Viktor Hanacek/ VIA Picjumbo