06 January 2010

Drunken Days of Yore

The OPSEU Incident

As promised, I have decided to share some drunken stories from my past with you. I hope you find these as funny as I did. The first one I'd like to share takes place somewhere around 1993-1994 in a 4 star hotel at at a party being hosted by a union that I did not, nor did I ever belong to. I like to refer to this drunken adventure as The OPSEU Incident. Keep in mind that some of the names and locations may be changed to avoid the possibility of lawsuits and/or criminal prosecution for the participants in this tale. The facts of what happened however, remain 100% accurate as I remember them occuring.

I received a call one afternoon by an old friend we shall to refer to as Phlegm. Phlegm and I had been friends since Grade 2, and we shared a common bond in that we liked to drink. A lot. The conversation went down like this:

"Hey! Wanna go to a party tonight?"

"Sure. Where's it happening?"

"Some hotel in Toronto. Its some kind of OPSEU party. Redhead says there will be free booze."

Redhead, a member of OPSEU (Ontario Public Service Employees Union) was a fortyish single mother of a couple girls Phlegm was fairly tight with. They all lived together in what I assumed was some kind of party house. I had drank there a couple of times in the past, but really did not know Redhead or her daughters very well at all. Luckily, they really didn't know me either, or they wouldn't be offering me free liquor.

As it turned out, Redhead worked with a fourtyish friend we shall call MILF. MILF had met a co-acquaintance of Phlegm and I named D at a party at Redhead's. As it turned out, MILF had decided she wanted a piece of the 20-something D, and decided an overnight party hosted by her union was the perfect cover to get away from her husband for the night. Seeing how D would be "tied up" so to speak, Phlegm requested to bring me along so he'd have someone to drink with. Redhead agreed with his logic, and 60 minutes later we were on our way.

It turned out that the party was being held at The Prince Hotel in Toronto. Redhead had advised us that she had access to a penthouse suite for the night, and we should come directly up once we arrived. As we entered the lavish suite, MILF pounced on D, handcuffed his hands behind his back and pushed him onto one of the beds. Phlegm, Redhead and I watched amused as MILF did her best to tease D into submission before leading him off to one of the other rooms. Redhead poured out some rum and cokes and Phlegm and I settled into a night of drinking at OPSEU's expense.

To be honest, I am not sure if it was the union or the taxpayer who was footing the bill for this event, but with a sweet room and free booze, I was determined to make the best of it. Redhead explained to us that we were to provide a specific union local number in the event we were questioned by anyone during the night. As it turned out, the first part of the evening was rather uneventful. We were joined by several of Redhead's friends who all seemed pretty cool, but it quickly became apparent that they were more into "social drinking" as opposed to the "power drinking" Phlegm and I were kicking into 3rd gear. To Phlegm and I, these people were total lightweights. Most of them were married, and aside from MILF, they weren't exactly the kind of women either of us were interested in hooking up with. At one point, a very large woman we shall call Grossberger showed up for a drink. As she left the suite, Phlegm grabbed my attention.

"Watch out, man. That Grossberger is a mattress. She only comes to these things to get drunk and hook up with any guy that will have her."

Great. A morbidly obese cougar on the prowl. Just one more factor to throw into a night that was quickly about to become an unpredictable chaotic mess.

At this point, I am not sure if it was general rowdiness, wonton drunkeness or Phlegm threatening to turn on some pay-per-view porn to "liven this party up", but as I was looking for another drink, Redhead told me they were out of booze.

"It is in the other room [in the suite], and people are sleeping in there."

Even through in my drunken stupor, I knew this to be a lie. The bottle we were drinking out of was at least a quarter full last time I filled my glass, and I did not see it nor Redhead nor anyone else wander out of this room since I poured from it. To a half-drunken twenty something on a mission to oblivion, cutting him off was probably the worst thing she could have done.


"We're out of booze?" asked Phlegm.

"It is in the other room," repeated one of Redhead's friends. "People are sleeping in there."


Just as the words were coming out of my mouth, a couple we were drinking with when we first got there came in the room. As they listened to my outburst, they smiled and explained the "real party" was downstairs in the Conference Room.

"They have $1 beers and $2 drinks," said the husband, unbeknownst that Phlegm and I were over 3/4 of the way from "pleasant to be around" to "shitfaced assholes."

While Redhead and her other friends rolled their eyes, Phlegm and I high-fived and made a beeline for the elevator. We located a bank machine and headed for the Conference Room. I walked up to the bar in the conference room and slapped down a $20.

"Give me a tray of rum and cokes," I demanded.

As Phlegm and I proceeded to start downing the rum and cokes like shooters, a forty-something woman came up to us and introduced herself.

"Hi!" said UnionChick. "I was wondering if you would like to volunteer for..."

"I DON'T GOT TIME FOR THAT SHIT!" I sneered at her and turned back to my drink.

Apparently, UnionChick did not like my response.


Apparently, UnionChick was some kind of higher-up in OPSEU, and she thought I was some typical lowlife union member that was willising-out on what she considered to be my duty. Both knowing I'd never see her again and wanting to get her off my back, I decided to take a different approach.

"I'm sorry. Of course I can help out. He will too," I replied, pointing at Phlegm and having absolutely no clue what we were volunteering for.

This seemed to win over UnionChick, who then produced a clipboard and asked me my name. After giving her something crafty I made up off the top of my head, she paused.

"And what is your local, Sweetie?" she inquired.

I was lost. The union local was something I was supposed to remember for exactly an event such as this, and I had dropped the ball. Seriously though, why the hell would I have expected anyone to ask something so absurd at a literal feeding trough of cheap liquor? Feeling the chance of being busted increasing by the second, I desperately tried overcoming my drunken state and to employ the Jedi Mind Trick.

"Local number? Damn, I can never rember this," I lauged nervously as I turned to Phlegm. "What the hell is our local number again?"

To this day, I am not sure what Phlegm said to her. However, whatever local number he gave along with whatever fake name he made up for himself seemed to satisfy UnionChick for the moment. She walked off to talk to some other people who then began to eye us suspiciously. Deciding that sticking around the Conference Room would likely result in getting us booted out of the hotel and into the cold Toronto night, we grabbed the tray of drinks and headed back to the room.

At this point, everything starts to get really hazy. However, I do remember that we never mentioned UnionChick to Redhead. We started hitting the drinks hard and the last thing I remember was Phlegm grabbing the remote for the TV and explaining he was going to find some pay-per-view porn.

"Fuck it," he said. "It's not like I am paying for it."

The next thing I knew I was in a world of pain. For me, rum and cokes always taste so good going down, but the hangover is always deadly. My head was throbbing and my guts felt like they were in a blender. I quickly realized I was laying in the middle of the Penthouse floor. As I sat up to get my bearings, my stomach lurched and my head started pounding harder. I found my way to an empty bed and lay down, hoping to shake the wave of vicious nausea. A short time later, Phlegm found me and sat on a chair laughing.

"Dude, that was some piss-up!" he laughed. "Didn't you pass out on the floor?"

I grunted a reply and shut my eyes. When I opened them, Redhead had joined Phlegm and actually looked amused, considering our antics the night before.

"We have to get going soon," she simply stated.

As Phlegm explained we had to wait for D, Grossberger waddled in the room. She listened for a minute, and as Phlegm finished she came over and sat on the bed beside me. As I wondered what the hell her deal was, she suddenly straddled me, leaned down and whispered some kind of sexual suggestion. I can only guess that the physical state I was in at the time, coupled with the look of abject horror on my face at the thought of copulating with this beast were all it took to make her decide to get off me. As she did, my stomach did one final lurch and I ran for the bathroom to vomit.

After I finished dry-heaving what little remained in my guts, I rejoined Phlegm and Redhead. Grossberger was thankfully gone. A few minutes later, D showed up all smiles. Phlegm and I quickly said our goodbyes, grabbed D and headed out the door. Once in the car, we busted out laughing as we recounted the antics of the previous night, and filled D in with the story of UnionChick. D had obviously had a great time with MILF and (Grossberger aside) we all of us considered it a good time all around.

A few months later, I received a call from Phlegm. "Hey man! Remember that OPSEU party we crashed? Well it looks like they are having another one. MILF wants to hook up with D again, so what do you say? Are you interested in a repeat appearance?"

A repeat appearance at another free booze event? Who the hell does he think he is talking to? "Of course I am interested!" I replied.

"Cool. Let me go talk to Redhead."

He put the phone down and I could hear him speaking to someone. I couldn't make out what he said, but I heard the reply as plain as day:


I was literally in hysterics when Phlegm returned with the news. He actually sounded hurt when he repeated what she said. I told him not to worry about it. After all, I was still laughing when I hung the phone up. There's nothing quite like leaving a lasting first impression.

1 comment:

John III said...

You sure know how to party! Or at least used to. I remember that year well through my drunken haze too. I was just turning 21 and oh was it fun!