Alcohol Poisoning
I learned a lot at my job at KPMG and I generally liked the people I worked with and for. However, being fake and kissing ass took a crazy toll on my soul. I would constantly get off of work and get in a quick 30 minute drinking session. And I would drink hard. One day, my buddy Walter calls me and says he is at a bar in Ktown. I head over and start drinking. Being that it was a week day I decided I should take it slow. Walter, a comedian, asked me why I am drinking like a pussy. I told him I had a early day the next day so I should take it slow. He asks, “Are you saving lives tomorrow?” I figured he had a point and started drinking.
He orders a bottle of tequila AKA devil’s juice. I hate tequila with the passion. I hate it because unless it’s the high end shit, you are gonna have one hell of a headache and hangover the next morning. Anyways, being that I hate my body and its capabilities, I am throwing back tequila like its water. I don’t remember the rest of the night.
I wake up a few hours later in a hospital bed. I ask the nurse what the hell happened. She said that I had alcohol poisoning. I look at the time and I had about 1 hour to get to work. Meaning there was no way I was gonna go home and shower. I got up, pulled the banana bag out of my arm. The nurse was like where are you going. I told her that I had to get to work.
I was half expecting cops to be outside my door because I thought I got booked for a DUI. I was kinda excited at the thought because this would mean I would have to miss a day of work. I asked the nurse, how I got here. She said a friend brought me in. FUCK! There goes my day off of work. I take a cab to the bar from the night before and indeed my car was there. I had a splitting headache. And since my head is the size of a pumpkin, a headache for me is a migraine to the normal person.
I get in the car and go straight to work. When I walk in, my boss takes one look at me and asks what the hell happen. I tell him that I drank like my life depended on it and I woke up in the hospital. Being the “nice and considerate” boss that he is, he tells me I should go home and take the day off. I tell him that I am fine and will work. If it gets unbearable, I will go home. He looks at me like I am crazy and he is right I am fucking crazy.
The whole day I am throwing up everything I ate in the last month. I would have made a bulimic blush. Pussies! Anyways, I lasted the whole day. From that day on, I swore that I would never drink tequila. That oath lasted 2 days. I think I might have a problem.
