Flashback - Why Tequila is a No-No

As I've gotten older, I've done a much better job at learning my limits especially when it comes to alcohol. After living and drinking in New Orleans, Los Angeles and Las Vegas, I've learned the following:

1. When you weigh 115 lbs soaking wet, an extra large Hurricane on Bourbon Street is a really bad idea.

2. More than one tall can of Steel Reserve can drive anyone with good sense to streak through the corridors of a Beverly Hills rock star's mansion.

3. Multiple rounds of tequila should NEVER be consumed while sitting in the hot desert sun.

There are interesting stories to go with each of these lessons, but I'll share the third.....

Quite a while ago, while living in Las Vegas, I used to work as a salesperson for an electronic media group. During each week, this group would have remote broadcasts or satellite radio shows to promote local businesses. On occasion, these remote broadcasts would be held at a really cool location such as Blue Martini, The Palms, or Hawaiian Tropic Zone. When such an event was held at a bar, it was a pretty sure bet that there was either a drink special going on or the organizing sales associate would receive comps from the menu. Thus, I was happy to accept the invitation when a good sales associate friend invited me to one such event on The Strip. Let's call her "Rosa."

I arrived at about 3:00pm. After hugs and "how are you's" we settled in on the top balcony of the establishment and got ourselves comfortable at the bar. The poison would be margaritas. Now, I don't tend to do tequila in any way shape or form. For me, it produces rather bad decision-making and a terrible hangover. But being around Rosa did always bring out the worst in me. She's just that kind of a friend and we don't hang that often. About three hours later, the sun was still burning a hole in my back and we were still drinking because neither of us knew that we were tipsy. Another hour goes by and everything gets ridiculously funny. Another hour goes by and we start harassing some of the men nearby. Another fifteen minutes passes and I come to my senses a tad. I noticed I'm not maintaining good posture on my stool and the bartenders are giving me and Rosa dirty looks. I start tapping Rosa on the shoulder but she's in rare form now. She wants another drink but we've both been cut off. We go downstairs to another bar to score and then head back upstairs. At this point, Rosa falls backwards off of her stool.

I'm thinking Oh Christ! This has gone too far. I have to get my act together. No more margaritas and I should be fine and then I can help my friend not make a total ass of herself. I call some guys that we know and start drinking water. By this time, it is way to late. There is no way that we'll be able to drive either of our cars to escape. The managers of the joint were probably in their office making banned signs for each of our sloshed faces. The guys arrived and offered not to take us home but instead to take us to the Hard Rock. Great idea. We headed over to the Hard Rock. After getting out of the car, I found a trash can and got rid of some of the alcohol sifting around in my belly. This was so not a pretty moment for me.

We got into the club at the Hard Rock, found the VIP section and then just stood there in a circle facing each other. I was downing as much water as possible. I looked at Rosa, now cross-eyed, smiling like an idiot, pinching the rears of passersby. I decided that the best place for me would be the cool confines of a restroom stall. After what seemed like three and a half years, I secured a stall, sat down and immediately fell into a deep coma. While I was dreaming of ice packs and soft pillows, Rosa was making an odd circuit throughout the dance club. According to her report, she managed to dance on a few tables, nearly get into a fight and explore the unknown lesbian side of herself by making out with a blond girl. About an hour and a half later, I woke up feeling pretty refreshed and made my way out to the festivities. The rest of my party rushed towards me asking where I'd been. In the bathroom! I guess it was time to go home before Rosa did a striptease or something.

All in all, I don't think I behaved too badly that night. However, not being able to control one's liquor intake is never a good look at any age. I guess I share this story to further promote the idea of being safe and making wiser decisions. I have so much to live for and I am definitely far from being indestructible. To tequila, as to many other ridiculous things, I just say no. Call it maturity.