Sadly or fortunately, take your pick, there aren’t any tangible photos from this day of debauchery, idiocy and chaos. Maybe Helen, Paul, Phil and Jose can scrape up something.
Regardless, it was a fantastic day which would make it my favorite birthday for many years (vomit and all). Certainly the pinnacle of the Summer of 1989, also my first successful go at living independently of my parents.
The day was already off to a great start because it was on a Saturday which meant I began celebrating on that Friday!
It began with Carrie meeting me at my apartment after the weekly grocery-store trip with Phil and Jose. There my girlfriend surprised me with a copy of Super Mario Brothers 2 for my NES. You know we went back to her place as soon as dinner was eaten…that’s where my NES resided! Around midnight we hit a nearby club because I was technically 21.
On Saturday morning I bought some booze at a liquor store in Carrie’s neighborhood. Quite a change in our relationship. We tried to cook brats in beer for brunch be neither of us had any inkling how to do this correctly, thankfully Somara does (it involves boiling the meat in the beer, then cooking). Then we hit the theater to watch Batman because it was my favorite movie of the Summer. (Now I despise it along with most films made by Tim Burton.) There was some dilly-dallying the rest of the afternoon, namely figuring out dinner. Carrie was rushing me later on yet refused to give any specifics so I took my sweet time preparing supper at my apartment before joining Phil and Jose for the evening’s festivities. Had I known Paul was the surprise guest I would’ve hurried.
The five of us kicked back for an hour at Phil and Jose’s apartment and caught up on how our Summer was progressing. Drinking was obviously involved too: it led to Phil and Carrie being the first two casualties of the evening. Phil’s third-shift job contributed to him falling asleep in what began as a quick cat nap we couldn’t rouse him from. Carrie’s situation was messier thanks to her practically guzzling vodka and then needing to vomit (not a pretty sight mixed with pasta). Due to her being an overdramatic drunk (the type who thinks the situation would lead to death), I stayed with Carrie in my friends’ bathroom coaching her and assisting her worship of the porcelain buddha. Paul later told me I sounded like a doctor delivering a baby.
With two attendees passed out safely, the rest of us hit the Marquette bar scene. For me it then gets blurry. I know I started with the free all-you-can-drink beer at the (now gone) Ardmore. Where we went afterwards is a mystery. I’m going to guess O’Paget’s because Paul worked there as a bouncer during the school year. I do recall vividly using my pancho from Mexico as a cape to imitate Batman while harassing some underclassmen (a dick move I regret). Paul sprung for my Real Chili to wind down the evening and it looked like I was going to “win” the evening by holding in my liquor. (For some weird reason, we all tried to make each other hurl on our respective 21st birthdays.) We then returned to Jose and Phil’s place after eating and Carrie (now sobered up) escorted me home.
The following morning, I “lost” courtesy of phone calls from my grandparents. Each called me separately at an unreasonable early time. I have idea what we talked about as Carrie assisted in keeping me propped up, sitting against a wall while I tried to listen attentively. After the second call concluded, I needed the trash can which Carrie frantically retrieved for me to blow chunks into.
Despite the hangover and puke, it remained the greatest birthday ever. When was it unseated? I’ll have to go with 1995 which is a story for next year.