In America the blood alcohol to be considered legally drunk is .080%. In England I think it’s 17%. One time I was pulled over for drunken driving. I had a blood alcohol content of .018. This is the amount of alcohol you can find in a single nose hair on an English baby. Get it? They drink a lot. Americans drinks a lot too. Different from our previous owners to the east, the English, Americans become even more obnoxious and incoherent when they drink. Nearly every Thursday night since May 2009 I have gone to the same bar on the Princeton University Campus. Here are a few drunken idiots I have met there.
Greg Mario: Bartender Jill said Greg Mario (you have to say his entire name) was a regular at the bar. I met him the first week in January in 2010. I haven’t seen him since. He gave me and my friend Rob hockey tickets. We wanted to thank him and before we did we asked him if he was “Mario.” He laughed, said no, then walked away only to come back later and apologize for being such a loon.
Big Daddy Tom: This man was visiting from some southern state. His son got into Princeton so he figured he would spend the night with a beer while his son was trying to pick up the overwhelming amount of Chinese girls on campus. BDT was special because he kept telling the same story over and over again. It was about something happening at 6:15 in the morning. After he told it a few times I started to tell it for him. He was a little amazed I knew so much about his life. This just proves how drunk he was.
David: I knew I didn’t like David when he was sitting in my favorite spot to sit. At first he seemed like your typical friendly drunk. He said to a woman who passed through “I watch Tinkerbell with my daughter sometimes but you are the most beautiful fairy I have ever seen.” The woman walked away quickly. He continued bothering women all night. It culminated when he was making a girl 30 years younger than he was look at herself in a shot glass. He finally realized we were mocking him and refused to say goodbye to us. Oh well. I never trust someone who goes to a bar wearing a polo shirt and shorts.
Name Unknown: I forget this guy’s name; he may even be two different guys. He owned a storage company in Florida and I found something online about him. His big claim to fame was spending an hour with him naming different celebrities and if he would or would not sleep with them. For a drunk guy he sure was picky. Possibly the most vulgar man I have ever met. And to think the first thing he said to me was a terrible children’s joke about a ghost with a band-aid called a “pumpkin patch.” That’s vulgar on a totally different degree.
The Sleeping Yankees Fan: She’s not a drunk but deserves a mention. She comes in almost every night, asks Bartender Jill to put on the Yankees game, and then falls asleep with her head back in the air. Probably the easiest buffoon to snap a picture of due to her drowsiness.
(I was told by Bartender Jill to not post pictures of Mrs. Holliday online. I have to prove at least one of these people exist. I tried taking a video of when Sigourney Weaver was eating with David Hyde Pierce last week but it just looks like an old beard out with her gay husband enjoying dinner)
Not Jeff Hanneman: Bartender Jill told us this man was from the band Slayer. Nobody knows the members of Slayer. They have one blonde guy so it had to be Jeff Hanneman. For close to two years Rob and I debated if it was him or not. I said there was no way. Finally we realized it couldn’t possibly be because Jeff Hanneman wears his watch on a different wrist than Not Jeff Hanneman and the real Jeff Hanneman had a flesh eating virus. I examined the fake Jeff Hanneman’s body in the bathroom with a flashlight. No signs of a flesh eating virus were discovered.
Captain Miles Standish: I almost forgot about this guy because he was a regular and no longer comes in at all. He was a short Indian man who could barely see over the bar. He never sat, always stood. He would bring homework in and do while I drank a glass of wine. His nickname is very simple, he stands. What else would we call him, Sting song?
The Two Black Guys: Forever Rob and I thought they were janitors because they always helped clean up some dishes. Turns out we’re just racists. They’re in there every time we are no matter what day it is so it was excusable. Last Thursday they had a random 16 year old French kid with them eating cookies. Turns out one of them coached an Olympic tennis star in the 1980s and the other drives a Ferrari. This is why I don’t like affirmative action.
Opera Lady: When women drink they become extremely obnoxious. I guess you can almost say they start behaving like me. This woman had nothing to offer other than whistling really loudly and singing terrible opera songs. She told a really bad story to everyone at the bar about how a train filled with Styrofoam caught on fire and the person at the front desk of her hotel did not work her to warn her about the fire. Fireballs were shot through the air. This apparently happened recently too. You’d think if a train exploded and shot fireballs all over the place killing people it would have made the news. Maybe it happened on 9/11 and it was overshadowed.
Freddy: This is the king of drunks. I think he’s a god in my eyes because he’s also the president of a bank and was the biggest drunk I have met. He even has a catchphrase, saying “What-What?” and pulling on his suspenders. He tried taking Bartender Jill out on a date but she doesn’t date bankers or fat guys who wear suspenders. She has specific taste. The last time she saw him he skipped out on the bill. The key to a woman’s heart is through screwing her on the tab.
Are there any lovable drunks in your life you will never forget?