It was a lovely fall evening. My friend's band was in town and they were on a big label. They'd just played a show at the Limelight and were hanging out at a bar in the village with their record label people. The record label people had a tab out on the bar and we were all getting free drinks. Since I didn't have to pay for anything I figured I'd do a little experimenting (not the brightest idea). My friend was into drinking 7/7's at the time and convinced me to get one. So I did. I didn't even know what was in the damn thing but I drank it anyway. Then I had a beer, followed by another 7/7 and so on. (Yeah, like you can't see this one coming by now!)

After an hour or so one of the band boys broke out a joint. Wahoo! We all went into the bathroom to smoke. A few minutes later we went back into the bar and I sat on a couch near my friends.

At this point I must mention that the bar was extremely SMALL. So small that it only had one bathroom with one toilet, not one for boys and one for girls; one for everyone. So small that my apartment is bigger than that bar.

So I was sitting on the couch. I closed my eyes. Uh-oh. Something wasn't right. Every time I closed my eyes my head would pound and I was seeing dancing stars; kaleidoscope shapes on my eyelids. I started to get that 'I'm gonna puke' feeling, so I slipped away into the bathroom.

God only knows how long I was in there. I don't know exactly what it was that pushed me over the edge, but I was sick. REALLY sick. I was gone long enough for someone to come looking for me. Friend #1 came in and held my hair while I puked up all of my drinks. She tried to get me up and out of there, but it just wasn't going to happen. So Friend #2, my roommate, showed up. She held my hair too. She watched my dinner come up--something that she'd cooked. "Oh look!" she said, "It's the noodles you had for dinner! Don't slip in them!" I couldn't laugh; I puked again.

By the end of her shift, a line had formed for the bathroom. I knew damn well I wasn't going anywhere. I somehow managed to let her know that I didn't care who peed next to me or over my head, for that matter.

After all the pee-ers were done for awhile, Friend#3 showed up. Now I was feeling really bad; this was my friend who was in the band, and also my ex. God--kill me now! He held my hair and tried to get me out of there, but it still wasn't happening. The main problem was that every time I moved, even slightly, I puked. Not that I had anything left to puke out at this point, but my body was certainly trying. He tried to move me a couple of times before I finally screamed out, "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!!! I'LL JUST PUKE AGAIN!!" That seemed to do the trick. I think I scared him though, because out of the blue, Friend #1 was back. She worked a shift and Friend #2 showed up again, making fun of my noodle dinner. I think around this time I'd been in the bathroom for at least an hour and a half...too long. The bartender showed up. The bar was closing and she had to get me out. I felt horrible and stupid and I really didn't want her to have to clean up my puke. I apologized over and over while Friend #2 propped me up against her on the couch. Someone poured water down my throat. I was weak as fuck since I'd lost everything in me, but completely stoned and only half awake. I was vaguely conscious of the fact that Friend #2 and the ex were talking about me as if I were invisible, but I felt so shitty that I couldn't even eavesdrop (one of my favorite things to do). Not much later I found myself in a cab on the way home. Funny how, to this day, my friend still makes fun of me for that night. She just blurts out, "Noodle-Slip Dance!!!"