Left off passed out in Emily's (not my future wife, another one) bathroom, vomit everywhere, having not been contained by my shoe. At some point my brother moved me to the couch. Also, one of her roommates woke up at an ungodly hour of the morning to clean the bathroom so that I would feel like a total jerk when I finally woke up.
When I did, my bro and I went to City Docks for some coffee smoothies. We were both pretty pleased with ourselves. I could only wear one shoe of course, and held the puke-shoe in my hands outside while Charles bought the drinks. Then we started walking to Sterling's place. About halfway through our drinks, we both decided to pull the trigger a few times, to see if that would really push us over the edge back into 'feeling great' territory. It was a resounding success. Cold, beige vomit flew from our throats as we shoved our hands down our mouths, sweating, crying, shirts unbuttoned, one-shoe-ed, somewhere along one of those charming streets in downtown Annapolis.
Eventually we had emptied ourselves and made it to Sterling's. I may or may not have puked one more time there. I used his hose to get my shoe back into shape, and I'm proud to stay they're a reliable pair to this day.
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