Oh The Places We’ll Go

You would think at this point in the vacation that I would need a breather, that I would need to sit back and relax before going out again.  Not so fast.  Thursdays are Morrisons nights, and we all know what that means.  100 Forint beers.  As in less than 50 cents, as in 10 beers costs 3 euros.  Where do I sign up?

During the times when daylight was shining, I honestly can’t recall doing much other than sitting around and reading my book.  In Budapest I picked up the habit of drunkenly trying to read my ‘Pillars of the Earth’ book around 4am before giving up and falling asleep.  However, as I dog-eared the page I drunkenly read last, I would have to go back and re-read whatever it was I had drunkenly read before.  This happened a good 5 days in a row or so.  Get drunk, get back, get the book, read, pass out, forget, re-read it all over again.  How annoying.  Especially during a graphic rape scene halfway through the book.  Traumatizing enough the first time around, and not something I’d like to re-read ever again.

The one time I actually decided to go and, you know, see the light of day was for dinner across the street with a big group of people staying at the hostel.  Mostly Australians and Kiwis, minus Brian and I.  This was a pretty standard group percentage going for most of the trip- large majority Aussies, small percentage Americans.  Fine by me, I guess.  Just keep talking in your really cool Australian accent and I’m smitten.  The restaurant across the street from the hostel gives hostel residents free beers when they eat there, so I was sold from the moment I heard ‘free’.  Turns out… this place takes forever for service.  And I mean FOREVER.  Literally took us days and days to get served, though once I actually did get my goulash it was so worth it.  I’m telling you, meat and potatoes are my weakness and Eastern Europe is full of em’.  The closer and closer time crept towards 830 the more and more anxious and antsy all of us were getting.  WE don’t want to, you know, miss out on all the delicious beer flowing from the taps at Morrisons for such an insanely cheap price.  It was literally cheaper to wait and just drink at the bar instead of pre-gaming.  That is how cheap it was.  God knows how long waiting at this restaurant, we finally got the bill, divvy’d it up and headed out to Morrisons to meet up with everyone already significantly into their beer stupors.  In retrospect I almost wish I would have gone straight away with the rest of the crew to Morrisons instead of going to the stupid restaurant.

By the time we got to Morrisons everyone was already far beyond buzzed and into their happy drunk phases, so we did what any normal beer and alcohol loving people would do… try to catch up.  Grab two beers, drink those, go back for seconds, over and over again.  Once I saw Brad’s arm full of all the B’s he had written on it (B for beer, T for tequila, etc) I knew there was no way any of us were going to catch up with all the crazy Australians who had been there since 8.  Drunken karaoke ensued for the rest of the night, no participation from me of course.  Seeing as how Kurt told me I had the “most annoying voice on the face of the planet” (true story), there was no way I was going to subject anyone to me singing drunken karaoke against their will.  Besides that, I would have to be level 4 drunk, blacked out, and absolutely shithoused before I’d even consider singing in public.  In other words, never going to happen.

About halfway through the night while all of us were sitting around the table, I’m sitting alone chatting away to someone when all of a sudden I feel someone’s arm around my shoulder, look to my right and see a blond and clearly drunk Hungarian guy.  He starts speaking Hungarian and realizes I obviously don’t have a clue what he’s saying when he switches to English.

(in a Borat-esque voice) “HELLO!  How are you?”

Ignore.  He keeps trying to talk to me, and I give him a few words here and there.  I’m fine.  Just drinking.  No, I don’t want your beer.  After a while he starts pestering these two girls that Tess is talking to, getting drunk and disorderly when Tess tells him to leave the girls alone.  Ah, 100 forint beers.  Once I got up to go and get my double fist refill of beer, as I’m walking back and start talking to Brian I see out of the corner of my eye that this guy is ASLEEP in the middle of the bar, head turned towards the ground.  Completely passed out.  This seems like the perfect opportunity for a picture.  Tess grabs my camera and I start posing with drunk crazy Hungarian guy for a few photos and then leave the guy alone.  The table has been completely abandoned thanks to crazy Hungarian guy, like he is the black hole no one wants to get sucked into.  A little while later after coming back from the bar yet again I walk up to the group and just as I turn towards the drunk Hungarian across the room, I see him lurch.  “Oh no, he’s not going to…”

Yes, puke.

All over the floor.  In the middle of the bar.  Absolute classic.  I point him out to everyone and we are all equally amused and disgusted.  God, I’m proud I got to witness the sick.  Don’t judge.

I don’t really remember why but all I remember is needing to leave all of a sudden from Morrison’s.  I think I was still gutted Alabama and his friend never showed up at Morrisons that night and, sure enough, never saw them again.  Devestated.  I just remember drunkenly feeling absolutely exhausted, figuring out the quickest way back to Carpe and leaving by myself.  Of course, I’m retarded and drunkenly left a bar in a foreign country by myself… probably not the smartest idea in the world.  I tend to get really weird about that stuff when I’m really drunk.  I make these really sudden decisions and become obsessive about going through with them.  If I need to leave, I NEED to leave.  Now, no questions asked.  I got back to the hostel pretty quickly and passed out, jeans on and everything, on my top bunk.