Indeed it has been months, chance an entire year since I last blogged. But due to the demand of the masses (or should I say due to the demand of 3 people) I am back. While this blog will no longer serve as a gateway to the trials and tribulations of my travels, it will serve a purpose that is perhaps better for most of the readers. I plan to use this blog as a gateway for all my friends, family members, co-workers, bosses, and whoever else might read to dig up dirt on yours truly. My name is Adam and I make mistakes. Lots and lots of mistakes. While many of them are alcohol assisted, some simply come from bad luck or general stupidity. That said, I must preface the blog with the following: I will not hold back on the details of my stories… if you don’t want to know what your innocent little son, grandson, friend, or whatever you might call me is up to, do not read.
The first of my stories is perhaps one of the most infamous among the people close to me. It all started back in the summer of ’07. Myself and my two roommates were really into chips and dip. Yup, the great American snack of ruffles and onion dip. We ate this stuff like it was nobody’s business. Chips and dip for a snack, chips and dip with lunch, chips and dip with dinner, chips and dip drowned in milk for breakfast. Basically, we ate a lot. Needless to say when you have an addiction, you are in constant need of satisfying the craving. Combine your addiction with intoxication, and you have a problem. It’s like giving Winona Ryder an inconspicuous bag inside of Neiman Marcus and telling her that the security department is off for the day… shit will get stolen.
It all started off innocently. My roommate and myself had returned from a satisfying night of drinking, bull shitting, and heckling women. We cracked open the onion dip and a fresh bag of ruffles and stood around like pigs at a feeding pen for about 20 minutes satisfying the drunken munchies. This is where things went dark. All I know about what happened was deduced from the evidence I woke up to. Apparently, we had both settled on calling it a night and headed up to bed. But, as my roommate wandered upstairs, I decided to take chips and dip to a whole new level. I grabbed the bag and the dip and marched up the stairs, psyched to be able to sit in bed and continue going to town on the ever-satisfying snack. You may ask how do I know I preceded upstairs with the food? That, is where this story takes its infamy. The best way to describe how I woke up would be to compare it to a more commonly known awakening. Imagine the scene from the Godfather when the director wakes up with his prized horse’s head tucked neatly into his sheets with him. Similar to him, I woke up and immediately felt that something wasn’t quite right with how I was lying there. I rubbed my eyes and looked down. I was naked, except for my shoes and socks. Typically waking up naked is a good thing. In this case it wasn’t. As my eyes came into focus I saw something a bit disturbing. Crumpled on the floor next to me was an empty bag of ruffle chips. Not good. I struggled with the fact that my ever-healthy body had consumed an entire bag of artery clogging, heart attack producing chips. However, the nakedness and the chips were the least of my worries. What was more concerning was the onion dip smeared all over my chest. Lets rewind and get a better image of how I woke up… Naked (except for my shoes and socks), covered in chip crumbs, and smeared with onion dip. Either I was sloppy drunk, or my roommate had blacked out and used me to fulfill some kind of sick fantasy in which he replaced the more typical whipped cream with French onion chip dip. Gross.
Unfortunately the story doesn’t end there. As we sat around that Saturday afternoon recapping the evening I shared the story with my roommates who laughed at the fact that once again I had gotten drunk and done something stupid. We all wrote it off and expected never to think about it again. Until that night. As if in some sort of scene from the Twilight Zone, the events of the night screamed Déjà vu. We came home, ate some more chips and dip and I woke up naked. This time, however, was worse. Not only did I wake up smeared with onion dip, but I also had the lid (coated in dip) plastered to the side of my face. I woke up groggy and all I remember was assessing the situation and literally saying out loud “Oh no, not again”. I tiptoed out of my room trying to hide the fact of what happened as to avoid some serious ridicule. But there my roommate stood. As our eyes met, I could see that he had figured out what had happened. I bowed my head in shame, turned around, and went back in my room marked with my scarlet letters “C & D”.
Time has passed since that epic weekend. The story has been told over and over, and now it finally is in print for the entire world to know. As for chips and dip, we don’t talk much anymore. I’ve moved on. I can reminisce on the good times had, but something about what happened that weekend changed how we feel about each other forever.
