I know that I already spoke about this episode a little in my Valentine's Day essay, but it's a pretty damn funny story, so I figure that I should give you, the reader, the full deal. That's just the sort of guy that I am. Anyway, this story actually took place during my sophomore year of college. If you've read my other essay, you already know that the reason behind everything done was getting dissed by a girl. Now, on to the specific events of the evening.

The night really started out like almost any other Saturday night in the dorms. On the particular weekend in question, I had seen everything I wanted at the theatres, so I was basically just hanging out with some friends looking for something to do. After kicking around on my computer for awhile in my room, I ventured down the hallway to a room where a bunch of people were playing cards.

Not being one to get into card games, I basically sat around and chatted with people when they weren't in deep concentration. There were some really funny things being said and the room was full of interesting people. After awhile, people started getting hungry and the microwave got revved up for action. After it was done, there were several bags of popcorn going around, as well as two bowls of ravioli.

I didn't want to impose, so I really didn't really eat anything. After the munchie session was dying out, there was still an entire bowl of ravioli to attend to. Feeling a bit unsatisfied from the cafeteria dinner, I obliged and gobbled down the entire bowl. Almost the same time that I became disinterested in the card game, I heard some other people down the hall announcing that movies would be showing in their room.

While washing out the bowl in the bathroom, I enquired a little further and found out that some friends of mine were going to be watching a couple classics; Top Gun and Ferris Buellers Day Off. Although I had seen them both several times, I decided that I would once again sit in on the session. I was still bumming from the whole dissing situation and decided that I would be happier if I was hanging around with other people.

When I went into the room, a good friend of mine quickly asked me if I would like a drink. Previous to this, I had only had alcoholic beverages twice in my life, but it seemed like a good time so I decided to have one. He mixed me up a triple-sec and Kool-Aid and popped in Top Gun. After I had finished my drink, the movie was about halfway through, and I was making smart-ass remarks that certainly don't seem as funny as they did when they were first spoken.

I sat with my empty glass for the remainder of the movie, feeling a slight buzz, but nothing that was too dehabilitating. While we were rewinding and preparing for the second flick, someone poured me a big glass of vodka and lemonade.

I swigged down the cup of liquid far too fast and could feel the alcohol really starting to hit me. Ferris Bueller was on the television and I was really buzzing badly. Thinking I'd put a capper on the evening, I poured myself one more glass. While working on finishing it off, I ate a big, white chocolate candy bar that my friend was going to throw out. I wasn't very hungry, but it looked really appetizing for some reason.

After I had taken the last sip out of my glass and set it down on a table, I could feel my head swimming. All my movements felt like they were slurring together and suddenly things weren't quite as funny as when I was just a little on the brink.

As the movie was heading towards its' conclusion, I felt my stomach starting to rumble. It didn't so much hurt as feel like everything that I had ingested was mixing around and forming itself into something sinister. It was at this point that I first realized that I may be getting sick. Just as the credits began coming up, I got up out of my place, opened the door, and tried to steady myself as I walked down the hallway. Once I stood up and started moving, I knew that I didn't have much time.

I walked straight into the bathroom, entered a stall and closed the door behind me. As soon as I had kneeled down, I started heaving and didn't finish until several minutes later. I realized my stupidity and in-between retches, managed to say statements such as "I'm so fucking stupid." After completely emptying my system and dry-heaving several times, I figured that it was over. I stood up, got out of the stall, and went and washed my face off.

My body felt like a complete wreck. I was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, and yet my muscles were shaking and tense from just having expelled it all. The next morning, I had no traces of a hangover and although it was good for my abs, I decided that I would never extend my limits the same way again.

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