We had a gathering at Janelle's place for a night of social drinking. Kyle, my QBF, had made a stop-over to Sawbucks to pick up a 750ml bottle of Crown Royal beforehand, with a formidable challenge that he was going to finish the entire bottle by the night's end.
Filling up a cordial glass of Crown Royal, he hook his first swig and downed it as if it was water. Then the burning sensation hit him hard and I think he had a chaser to alleviate the pain. As it turned out, he had NEVER had Crown Royal before and only bought it because his co-workers (I'm guessing that they'd be much older guys in the lumber yard) told him that it was pretty good. When he realised that it wasn't as good as it cracked up to be, he tried mixing his drink with Sprite, 7Up, and Piña Coladas, but no amount of dilution satisfied him as the pungent taste of Crown Royal was still there.
Surprisingly, he managed to consume 1/3 of the bottle before he called it quits and fell all over me on the sofa, drunk and reeking of alcohol like a bum on the street.
Kyle, Janelle, Aaron, and I, flopped out on the sofa after consuming enough drinks, began watching "Nightmare Before Christmas" on the idiot box. Given that it was nearly two in the morning, we didn't get very far into the movie. Janelle offered us a comfortable bed in the guest room upstairs, but I kept my QBF company instead as he was in no shape to crawl off the sofa, let alone walk up a flight of stairs.
I slept in peace with Kyle's soothing rhythm as he inhaled and exhaled, breathing down his warm whisky breath on my right cheek...
No comments:
Post a Comment