My crazy night of drinking

**IndianaFuzz** · 02-13-09, 06:47 AM

One night, a few weeks back, my shift partner and I head out to a southside bar called The Anchor, which is kind of one of the "rougher" bars in town. I'd never actually been inside the place before, just had responded to fight calls in the parking lot. But I decided to go since my partner was a southsider and wanted to be around "his people."

So we get to the bar and walk inside. Man this place was rough. I noticed a plaque that was up on the wall behind the bar, with a guy's picture right beside it. I asked the bartender what the deal was with the plaque and the picture. He told me, "That guy there... He's the king of the bar!" "The king of the bar?" I ask. He said, "Yep. One night, ol' Hank there drank 41 beers here. That's more than anyone else has ever drank here. Now whenever he comes in, he gets all his beers for free." All I could say to that was, "Wow!"

But my partner, as he always seems to do, felt he had to chime in about it. He said, "41 beers? Shit, that aint nothing! Jon here could drink that much any day!" I instantly kick him in the shin to get him to shut up. But he kept trying to go on and on about my supposed drinking prowess. So at this point I feel kind of between a rock and a hard place. I don't want to get that drunk, but by now these people here want to see me put the beers down, and I might get my ass kicked if I'm too chicken to try. In light of that, reluctantly I exclaim, "Beer me!"

So I start drinking beers. After the first few, I start to loosen up and really start having a good time. A few more beers and I am living it up with all the bikers, having a blast. I finally get up to 39 beers, and I am NOT feeling well. Holy crap, I'd never had that many beers before. But by this time, the entire bar is hanging on my every sip. I don't want any more beer at all, but I have no choice.

I manage to get numbers 40 and 41 to go down, and the crowd in the bar is worked up into a frenzy about it. They start shouting, "42! 42! 42!" So in typical drunken showboating fashion, I chug down beer number 42. The bar erupts in celebration! The chants pour out like the beer itself, "King of the bar! King of the bar!" I lean over to my partner and tell him, "You gotta get me home, and quick. I don't know how long I can keep from throwing up!" So my partner drives me home and drops me off at my doorstep.

The next night, my partner calls me up and says, "Hey let's go back to the Anchor tonight!" I told him, "I'll go with you, but I am NOT drinking." He gets all upset and says, "What do you mean you aren't drinking???? You are the new king of the bar! You don't have to pay for your beers anymore!" I told him, "Listen man, last night after you brought me home and left, I blew chunks! I blew chunks in the bathroom. I blew chunks in the kitchen. I even blew chunks on the living room couch!" He laughed and said, "Well I'd bet that you would have. Surely anyone who drinks that many beers would puke their guts out!" Then I told him, "You don't understand........ Chunks is my dog!"

**mack** · 02-13-09, 06:50 AM

LMAO !!!!!!!

**Odd** · 02-13-09, 06:56 AM

There's man's best friend and then there's...

**Ducky** · 02-13-09, 06:58 AM

You had me right up till the end

**mack** · 02-13-09, 07:00 AM

Originally Posted by Ducky

You had me right up till the end

Me too Ducky

**Second Chance** · 02-13-09, 07:30 AM

Sounds like Chunks, had a good night....................

**Jenna** · 02-13-09, 09:36 AM

**lewisipso** · 02-13-09, 12:00 PM

Whoa! Hold on there pardner!

**Pudge** · 02-13-09, 12:54 PM

Man's best friend hell.

You'd think after a night like that, Chunks would at least return the favor.

Maybe it's time to switch your peanut butter......