What a Nice Guy by Phil Torcivia

Friday, May 6, 2011

Blame it on Tequila

I haven’t done much while drunk on tequila that I regret. I don’t regret lying about it either. I have heard tales from friends behind and in front of bars, though. Most involve odd combinations of sexual adventures, vomiting in planters, and public urination.
Here’s a list of things tequila almost made me do:
  • Dance without realizing nobody is dancing with me.
  • Lick salt off a woman’s torso while she was sprawled out on a bar at the House of Blues. (Did you know tequila kills germs?)
  • Smoke a cigar that tasted like a mud puddle.
  • Forget where I parked.
  • Hands-free urination in a stall because I needed to hold the walls and stop the bathroom from spinning.
  • Challenge a woman to a sidewalk sprint.
  • Bounce quarters.
  • Pass out while inside a woman.
  • Watch infomercials.
  • Let a (less) drunk woman drive my sports car.
  • Burn the roof of my mouth on hot pizza.
  • Knock on random hotel room doors and run away.
  • Pee in a sink.
  • Try to negotiate at a fast food drive-thru window.
  • Eat fried ice cream.
  • Microwave an aluminum leftover container.
  • Hang my head out the car window while driving.
  • Eat oysters.
  • Buy clothing I would never wear.
  • Tell someone I can’t stand that I love him or her.
  • Sing Elton John songs in public.
  • Bark at a dog locked in a car.
Tequila is great for lowering inhibitions. Mine are naturally high. Still, no amount of tequila could make me do any of the following:
  • Vote for The Donald.
  • Admit that Chris Brown is talented.
  • Have sex over Skype.
  • Paddle boating.
  • Call Mike Tyson anything except “Sir.”
  • Buy a pet parakeet.
  • Drive a motorcycle.
  • Post a profile photo of myself making a duck face.
  • Pick up dog poop with or without a bag over my hand, unless I’m about to throw it at Glenn Beck.
  • Give up drinking tequila.

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