Dark Side of Drunk: PermaGrin, Big Guy and Shakira Seek Trouble in Lubbock

"Time to pick designated driver!" Big Guy says, as we sit down with our cocktails. "Rock paper scissors!" It's his favorite way to make decisions.

The first couple of times PermaGrin and I win, and then as we pull out rock and scissors, Big Guy gives us a thumbs-up.

"What the hell is that?" I ask.

"It's the bomb!" he cries. "I win! Bomb takes all!"

"Cheater!" I accuse him and decide to take designated driver duty.

Some guy walks by and hurls an insult at Big Guy, who throws one back. Of course they know each other! That's the way men say hello. Women do it too, but we say it to our friends instead of the girl in question. Example: "Does she KNOW how that skirt makes her bulge? Oh, HI!" It turns out this boy (we'll call him Shipper!) works in the shipping department of Big Guy's office, and Big Guy makes his life hell on a daily basis. So Big Guy decides to buy him a beer.

Shipper's friends join us after drinking seventeen Miller Lites next door at some cheesy bar. Well, they've had plenty to drink except for one girl: she's a med student and apparently doesn't drink.

"Oh, great," I say to PermaGrin, "do you think she's gonna be all weird about how we're pickling our livers?"

PermaGrin doubles over and clutches his side. "Hey, man, it hurts right here when I drink bourbon. Do you think you could diagnose that for me?"

"Hey, yeah, can you explain the effects of mixing beer and liquor, Doctor?" I say, and the two of us find ourselves funny and crack up. Along with The Doctor, there's Bland Girl, Bland Guy and Blond Tips. Blond Tips is one helluva weird-looking dude. He's got he aforementioned blond tips on his long brown hair and the largest eyes I have ever seen. They practically bug out of his head. And then he flashes a grin full of braces and I have to look away because I'm laughing too hard.

PermaGrin is trying to make time with Bland Girl. He looks my direction for approval and I shrug.

"Ehhh, I don't see anything special going on there," I tell him, which is a good thing because Big Guy blows his game two seconds later.

"Hey BLAND GIRL!" he says. "What are you doing with these losers?! You should find yourself another guy—like that dude over there." He gestures rather drunkenly toward a crowd of people walking by.

"Nice job, Big Guy," I tell him. "You just called PermaGrin a loser."

"Ooooops." Apparently Big Guy didn't realize PermaGrin was trying to get in on the action. "Sorry!" he says. PermaGrin shrugs and then turns to me and makes The Face. It's an imitation of Blond Tips, with the eyes and the freaky pearly-white grin. He looks like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. I can't stop laughing. He'll look over at Blond Tips and then back at me, making his eyes pop out of his head while grinning with all of his teeth. I don't think Blond Tips has picked up on it yet.

Oh God. Big Guy has the hiccups. The last time he had the hiccups they lasted a record three hours. He tried everything to get them to disappear: holding his breath, breathing into a paper bag…he even ran along the beach at the lake, and Big Guy has a strict policy about running only when chased. The hiccups lasted about two hours before they finally disappeared, only to begin again as he was lying down to sleep.

"Okay, we need to distract you from the hiccups," I say. "What about if I take my bra off?"

Big Guy manages to convey his agreement, though he's holding his breath and he can't speak.

I unhook the bra and get one strap out of my shirt. But then for some reason I can't manuever my elbow out of the strap, so it's got my right arm paralyzed. PermaGrin has mercifully left his seat to go to the bathroom, and Blond Tips and company are talking to some people on the street, so they can't see my predicament. I sort of wriggle around, while Big Guy watches me and holds his breath so long his eyes start to water. I manage to pull the strap over the right elbow and then grab the left strap. Finally, victorious, I pull the bra out from under my shirt and stuff it in my purse.

I give him a sexy smile and raise my eyebrows. "How about that?"

"Ni-" he begins, and is interrupted by a hiccup.