80s Party = Mayhem

"What are you making?" I asked the coffee shop woman as she poured Dr. Pepper into a cup.

She looked up at my strangely, then said slowly, "I'm pouring Dr. Pepper into a cup."

And just like that, my cover was blown. Not that she probably couldn't tell from my bloodshot eyes, hoarse voice, "wind blown" hair and the traces of last night's 80's makeup on my face, but just in case there was any doubt in her mind, I confirmed her suspicions.

"Rough night?" she asked.

*****************

Rought night... Well let's see. I woke up this morning at 8:28am. Which would have been ok if I'd slept in the clothes I was planning to wear to work and if I my office was 2 minutes away. But in fact, I was still in my 80s garb and the office was 45 mins away.

F*ck.

Twenty-eight years old and none the wiser. I'd really thought I'd left these days behind me. At first I was able to rationalize the heavy drinking on a "work" night. In 2003 when Syracuse won the NCAA championship, I thought, what kind of Syracuse fan would I be if I didn't show up to work still drunk from the night before? In subsequent years however, Syracuse never won another NCAA championship so it became:

- What kind of friend would I be if I didn't stay and celebrate a birthday till last call on Tuesday night/Wednesdsay morning?

- What kind of person would I be if I didn't take advantage of $1 drink wednesdays?

- What kind of... you get the jist

So I just stopped offering up excuses. It became common knowledge that after any major holiday/event, St. Patricks Day, Cinco de Mayo, Halloween Thursdays at Union Cattle and Mardi Gras, a birthday happy hour; I along with my cohorts, the Cattle Crew were going to show up late to work, still drunk and often times in the same clothes from the night before or clothes we borrowed from eachother.

Them were the days. But I was a business school student now and interning at a multi-billion dollar corporation. I needed to step up my game prove that I was mature enough to enjoy an evening at a sketchy dance club without aid of alcohol. And that I could make it home at a decent hour so that I didn't find myself sitting at my desk the next morning hating life.

That's what I needed to do... but did I do it? Sure, for about 10 weeks, until Orientation Weekend, more specifically, the 80s party, which was conveniently scheduled on a Sunday evening.

Think about it... Men in short shorts and tube socks, neon aplenty, smurfs and a guy dressed up as teen wolf... Is there really any other option other than to get completely inebriated?

Nope. And so I did. And now here I sit with my bottle of water, ice coffee, half eaten bagel, Ricola and rewetting eye drops. Hating life.

But the question remains. Would I do it again?

Hell yes. These are the days.