2006-08-22 
 

fresh breath is a priority in my life

A recent post by Simon recently inspired me to give directions to him in the comments section on how to experience a hangover without actually consuming alcohol.

He also mentioned that he had "never smoked anything, been stoned, gotten pierced, inked, or played tiddlywinks with a stranger's tonsils on the back room couch."
Since I've done all of them, I wondered if I could explain them too. (If you have no interest, I suggest you turn back now.)

What I realize is that while I could describe a general feeling of those things, like the hangover, it'd never come close to the exact thing beyond a retelling of my own personal perceptions or a tongue in cheek comparison to something very different. I own that this makes me happy to have experienced them directly myself. Sure, there's some things I really don't want to ever experience, and some I have that I'd gladly erase from memory. (Hemorrhoids being a prime example.)

I respect the right of others to avoid this particular list below, but they all made my life a little more interesting and I'm glad I got the chance. (Please note my use of the word interesting vs. pleasant when you read the last one. How's that for foreshadowing?)

Stoned: Find adult size Sit N' Spin. Spin, spin, spin. Spin some more. Fall off laughing. Discuss similarities between Wizard of Oz and current government with either a close friend and/or relative stranger who's also just fallen off a nearby Sit N' Spin. Eventually lose track of conversation. Suddenly remember Sit N' Spin. Repeat.

Piercing: Honestly, quite painless. Really is just a pinch. But the pop when the needle punches through your ear is rather satisfying, like when you pop a zit and all the yuck comes out. (and don't tell me you never experienced that, then I can't help you) The worst part about the ear piercing is the alcohol swab you have to self inflict for quite some time after to avoid ears from swelling to gargantuan proportions.

Tattoo: Honestly, not very painless. Pinch, pinch, pinch, pinch, pinch. PINCH. And then more pinches. Like the arm sunburns we used to give each other as kids, but it lasts about an hour...or longer I guess depending on size of tattoo. I remember reminding myself that pain was a sensation the body felt like any other and that we had naturally trained responses to it. After a while I was able to pretty much enjoy it in an odd way. The same way you can enjoy the burn at the gym. You know something good'll come from it.

Back Couch: Actually, while there were several quite pleasant experiences I've had, what just came to mind was the New Year's I spent at Chaps in Boston. (the old Chaps, for those of you old enough to know the difference) Just before midnight, I'd chowed on a piece of too sweet cake and as the clock struck, downed my bubbly. Suddenly this totally gorgeous guy with perfectly tousled hair, no shirt (and his body should NEVER see the evil cover of a shirt) pulled me down next to him in the "lounge".

I was giddy with excitement when he told me he'd been watching me and thought I was the cutest guy there. (even in my tipsy state, I realized this was purely a line inspired by his own level of inebriation, but hey...did I mention he was HOT?) We proceeded to greet the New Year in the traditional way. Unfortunately, as his tongue probed ever more deeply into my mouth, I began to realize that he had very recently vomited. The sweetness of the cake I'd eaten had tried to defeat it at first, but soon gave up and tagged the remnants of champagne which had even less luck. As soon as this unfortunate taste fight was over, and before I began to gag, I extracted myself and exited stage left.

I admit, most of my experiences on various back couches have been fun, but that's the experience that taught me to be a bit more cautious before diving onto the couch. Besides, tragedy is often funnier than comedy. Even if it is a bit gross.

Which brings me to the moral of today's disjointed entry. Every single man should carry with him always: condoms and a full Listerine PocketPak. You never know when either of them could turn tragedy into comedy again.

Labels: dose of mikey, memory lane

* posted by me at 2:38 AM

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