My 21st birthday was supposed to be this fantastic night of drinking and hanging out with friends. Little did I know…

Before the night gets started, a friend and I split a 6-pack. Afterward, we head to Old Town in Kissimmee, FL and hop between a few bars. We finally settle on this one place that has a live DJ and some attractive women inside—the only two things you really need on your birthday.

We sit at the bar and because it is my birthday, drinks are bought for me by my friends and a few other patrons. By this time, everyone in the pub has been told it is my birthday by the DJ. Equipped with this information, a very attractive blond woman—Heather—sits next to me and offers to buy me a drink.

Keep in mind by this time I have already had about 6 to 7 beers and 2 mixed drinks. So, of course, I say “OK”.
Heather and I get to talking, but after a while her pager goes off (Quick note: In those days cell phones were still on the rise and a lot of people carried pagers).

She mentions that it is her mom, who is at the hospital, and she has to go.

I say “Thank you” and she leaves. Alas…

I am currently at and slightly beyond my limit.

A few moments later, Heather’s very attractive Hispanic friend, Rosa, comes over and asks where Heather just took off to.

I explain the situation about her mom and the hospital and Rosa says she understands. I expect her to turn and leave however, instead Rosa takes the seat next to me and starts buying me drinks, just like Heather did.

We hit it off really well and I start to feel like I could hang out with this girl again maybe.

Fast forward to the end of the night.

Rosa and I are both drunk and stumbling around. My friend mellowed out and is planning to drive me home. As we were walking toward the parking lot, Heather rushes toward us, hoping to catch last call.

We explain in drunken tones that she missed the final toast of my birthday as the called last call.

Heather has now been sober for several hours and seems completely fine to drive. She offers to drive me home since it is fairly close to where she lives. I accept, in the hopes of furthering the evening with her.

As we are driving she asks me if I have any alcohol at my house.

I answer “Yes” because I can only imagine getting her intoxicated and having shameless drunken sex as the pinnacle to my 21st birthday. We get to my house and I immediately go to the fridge and grab a bottle of high proof rum, a bottle of wine, and a bottle of champagne. I figure I’ll give her a selection of tasty beverages.

The last thing I remember from the evening is taking a long swig of the rum with Heather, and then washing down the burning flavor with the entire bottle of champagne.

The next morning I awake to a headache never before experienced by mortals. It is my first real hangover.

I collapse for a few moments, worshiping the porcelain god, and try to remember my night. I then get up and notice that I am covered in peanut butter. I have it everywhere! Where peanut butter shouldn’t be… peanut butter is.

I can’t figure out why I’m a human piece of toast, so I ignore it temporarily and make the seemingly endless walk to my bedroom—only to slip and fall on my own pepperoni pizza vomit!

Still severely hung over, I ignore it too and just kept walking to my bed.

When I finally get to my bed, I pull the covers off to reveal a woman that could have easily been mistaken for a small planet. As my eyes shoot open, I realized how over the top disgusting she truly is! Especially her stubby, mostly shaven and razor burned legs.

“I honestly don’t care who you are. I would really like you to leave,” I say, in a tone which is simply weak from exhaustion and dehydration.

She leaves without saying a word. The smile on her face is enough to tell me everything…

Thinking back to the evening, I honestly do not remember there ever being a woman this big in my night. I even take into account the extremity of my beer goggles and she still wasn’t there. Instead, the much more frightening realization of what happened last night slowly fades in.

Last night, Heather got me a couple drinks, to make certain I was on my way to incoherence. Then she left to get “the friend” ready to get laid while Rosa continued to keep me going. Heather drove me home, gave Rosa the address to bring “the friend”. Heather got me to my absolute limit and then she and “the friend” swap out, and I am heavily inebriated and none-the-wiser.

I was used.

I feel dirty, and sick, and horrible… and I still can’t figure out why I’m covered in peanut butter…

Let this be a lesson to all of you. If an attractive girl and her sexy friend are both buying you drinks, laughing at your jokes, and coming on to you… something is very, very wrong!

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