Reposted from The W(H)INE Monologue
Palm Bay, Fl
A lesson learned the hard way – Don’t drink and dive. And if you do, get close enough to the pool so you clear the edge.
Nice visual, right? Let me tell ya about it.
I, by no means have ever claimed to walk with grace, fall with grace, or simply drink with grace. To clarify – I do drink with Grace but not gracefully. Basically, I’m a disaster waiting to happen and when you add a little liquor to that, it’s only a matter of time before the inevitable occurs and I make a total ass out of myself.
Hence – don’t drink and dive.
You see, a bunch of us were hanging out by the pool, hot tub, garage game room and just having a grand old time. I figured I’d stay put in one place so as not to make a spectacle of myself. So for the longest time, I stayed in the garage shooting pool – where it was safe and DRY. No way was I about to eat tile and play slip and slide through the house. Nope. Not me. You see, I accept my limits and walking while drinking is definitely very limited.
As the night went on, the crowd routinely migrated from here to there an back again but not me. I was blissfully content to sit atop a bar stool next to the pool table, bottle in hand. Then it happened. The cooler went dry and pretty much everyone had wandered back to the pool. Damn. That meant I had to forego my skid proof flooring and gingerly make my way through the deathtrap wet, tiled house to the overly crowded pool deck where there were beverages aplenty. I didn’t really like the idea of pulling a Risky Business through the house and I hated the idea of me being a human pinball even more but when the cooler runs dry, you go where there are refreshments. I’m not sure how long it actually took me to traverse through the house and onto the back patio but somehow I made it and without any damage. Whew. Feeling relieved, I grabbed another drink, found a spot to once again perch, and hoped I wouldn’t need to move again any time soon. That was not to be the case; however, because the already rawdy group was being egged on by my house party hostess in the hopes of instigating a game of pool volley ball. Next thing I know, there’s two highly inebriated teams floundering about, looking like breaching whales as they attempt to make contact with the ball. This one does a belly flop. That one gets hit in the face. Another one sucks in a mouthful of water. Oh, now he’s hanging over the side of the pool gagging. That’s just great! I hear our hostess yell, “Don’t you effing puke in the POOL, dumb ass!” I’m about to wet my pants from laughing when she asks me to get an overthrown ball. Still laughing, I manage to get the slippery devil and chuck it back in the pool. “Hey! Come join us. This loser’s about to hurl” she calls to me as she instructs the water sucking guy to get out of the pool. My belly is about to bust from laughing at the scene before me and I know I shouldn’t, but I stagger over to the pool anyway. Big mistake. You see, alcohol plays tricks…evil tricks…on your depth perception. You guessed it. Objects in mirror are closer than they appear and when you’re drinking, they are farther way than they appear. In my mind, I was on the edge. In reality, I was 1 foot back from where I should have been. Know what happens when you’re too far back for a dive? You have no dive curve and hit the bottom… face first.
What did I tell you about grace? I didn’t play tile slip and slide but I did end up with a pretty gnarly pool smashed mug and I’m happy the entire incident wasn’t any worse.
Moral of the Story: Don’t Drink and Dive