One Dark, Dark Night In Baguio City

That's us nursing our ourselves at 3 in the morning.

That’s us nursing our ourselves at 3 in the morning.

The buzz that kills, the kind of high you crave, the bitter aftertaste of tequila and vodka you are chugging like there is no tomorrow, the numbness that causes pain to vanish, the excitement that never ceases until first light, the friends and acquaintances you get along with, the ceaseless storytelling, the dimming lights and incessant chatters of the people around you are among the reasons why choosing to submerge yourself in the overwhelming realm of intoxication to escape reality for a fleeting moment is sometimes a necessity to enjoy life.

It happened on the night of August 16th at T-lib Bar situated somewhere in Naguilan Road, Baguio City. As one of my friend’s cousins drove us to the place at 10 in the evening, the exact location of the bar remains hazy to me. It was my first time being in a fancy bar with variety of books, magazines and expensive alcohol, yes alcohol, in every corner. The tons of reading materials encircling you emit a feel of being in a library, but the different types of alcohol shelved along with them contradict the idea. Nevertheless, it is a cozy bar with great ambiance, exemplary choice of music and divine food.

Also, to those who want to challenge their soberness after a long night of drinking and partying, reading at least five books will definitely do the job. It doesn’t mean that you have to read each entire book like a geek that you are. Skimming summaries of five books or five articles from different magazines and able to verbalize them in front of your friends prove that first, you’re indeed sober and second you’re a nerd. The latter is a simple fact. Because only nerds go to a bar with a mission of reading books and magazines instead of partying like crazy until dawn. I did grab a FHM magazine because the girl on the front page was hot, but I didn’t flip the pages as it was dated 2007. Absolutely ancient.

Enough with the blabbering and let’s go to the fun part. Before I knew it, I was having the most intense debate with my friend about the kind of booze we were going to get like our lives depended on whatever decision we would end up making. And yes, stubborn that I am, I ended up coaxing her to get tequila despite the multiple warnings of having the worst hangover the next day she bombarded me (and she was right by the way). The first bottle was finished before we even knew it, so we decided to get another bottle of Absolute vodka this time. Combining tequila and vodka was ridiculously psychotic because that’s where things started spiraling downhill.

I woke up at three in the morning, joggled my head to get rid of a pounding headache, tried to mentally process where I was and saw my friend literally swimming in her vomit. I was buzzed; my head was hurting like hell; my throat stung and burned like I swallowed a bottle of rancid juice. However when I saw my friend extremely conked out beside me, my blurry consciousness perked up. What the f*ck happened? And then everything started rolling like a scene in a dreadful movie, my heroic actions of slapping my friend numerous times to rouse her, the people bathing her with Johnson’s baby powder to sober her up (I still don’t understand how sponging a drunk person with baby powder sobers her/him up), the staff who took turns trying to piggy-back my friend but was futile because they were tiny (sorry—lol), manang who was taking the role of a full-time paparrazi, kuya who was supposed to be our driver heaving his dinner outside the van, the other cousin who was nursing his drunkenness across the table, the staff who were having a feud between themselves about how to kick us out so they could clean the place up. It was plainly chaotic. We were doomed. We couldn’t go home with our current condition. We could’ve taken a cab with three drunken people in tow, but it was inconceivable to do the simple task of dragging their arses out the bar since most of them outweighed us. Amidst the chaos, the relentless vomiting, the screaming and yelling, we decided to bunk inside the van for few hours for everyone to sober up before finally gathering our beat-up bodies and head home.

The possible repercussions of that particular night are something to ruminate about with ardor now that my mind is no longer under the influence of tequila and vodka. What we normally call “blacking out” due to over-consumption of alcohol was endured and sustained by each of us whether we were willing victims or not. And seeing the graphic pictures of the previous night the next day didn’t do a good job of mitigating the discomfort, the mortification and the fear of knowing that having memory lapses due to alcohol is indeed possible to anybody for that matter. Yes, the reality that alcohol can cause partial amnesia is undoubtedly beyond scary as this phenomenon never occurred or happened to me before. Being in control around booze is what I do except that night for some unknown reason I can never fathom. And yes again, I will not have another irrational episode of such thing in the near future.

In spite of the absurdity of the situation, the hangover we painstakingly tolerated the following day, our stinking breathe, our post-vomit, messy and wrinkled clothes we sported the next day and the fabulous and interesting people I’ve met, I can never deny the fact that these vagaries of actions made that particular night fun, priceless and worth remembering. Given the chance, I would definitely do the so-called crime the second time around. Well, except the “blacking out” part.

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