Saturday, February 26, 2011

Blame it on the al-al-al-al-al-alcohol

I've posted on this topic before, many moons ago, but it's something that makes me laugh.
One of the most entertaining things I do in my life right now is drive drunk people home.  I haven't in a while, and I attribute this sad fact to my grumpy mood lately.

Being the designated driver is buckets of fun if you have the ability to stay up until last call.  Here are a few of my favorite moments DDing:

While running RamRide (which is a volunteer DD service through CSU), my friend and I were dubbed the "Easter Angels" by this kid who tried to get in my car with an open container.  At least he knew it was Easter weekend.

While picking up a few kids, one tried to slide across the hood of my car and promptly fell off the other side.  During this same ride, he and his brother passed out in the back seat and one later tried to kiss me.  Awkward.

I drive a '96 Camry.  Compact car.  You know.  Somehow sardined three two-hundred plus pound kids in the backseat.  Also found peanuts in the back seat after that night.

One thing that I keep in my car is a hard hat that is green with gold horns.  Go Rams.  It gets put on every time I drive someone home.

Someone spilled beer on the back seat floor, and my friend got in the car the next day and said it smelled like Old Chicago, and that she liked it.

Lastly, I'm told that the first time Patrick drove me home while I was drunk, I said to him, "Let's get some fuckin' frreeeench toast."  Old 40 Year Old Virgin, you slay me.

Folks, being the designated driver generally sucks.  But if the circumstances are right, you might just get comedy gold. 

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