Your Craziest Drinking Story
Here is EveryJoe’s weekly dose of your craziest drinking stories. Think you’ve got something better? Send it our way! All you have to do is email Sabrina with “crazy drinking story” as your subject line. What are you waiting for?!
When I was associate editor for a business trade covering the international entertainment industry, I frequently attended trade with splashy cocktail parties for the launch of new TV series or consumer products lines. Once, in NYC, I was at an MGM party for the launch of a new tween apparel line for the Pink Panther. Everything at the party was pink and the signature cocktail was cosmopolitans (back before Sex and the City popularized them).
istock photo
Now I’ll admit that I had a few glasses, but I was suddenly too inebriated to stand. I laid down on the sidewalk, in the middle of New York, and told my colleagues to leave me there. They finally got me back to my hotel, where all I wanted in the rapidly spinning world was to sleep off what I knew would be the mother of all hangovers.
One of my colleagues was worried about me and called 9-1-1. To my surprise and horror, I was shaken awake to find my hotel room crawling with police officers, paramedics and firefighters. That’s right, five big, burly men in my hotel room – which under different circumstances I might have found amusing. They asked me to come with them and I resisted, saying all I needed was to sleep. They insisted. I refused. They finally said: “Amanda, you can come quietly or go out in cuffs on the stretcher.” I meekly agreed.
I spent a long night in a New York City hospital (and felt smug pride in our Canadian health care system), where it was discovered that one of my drinks had been drugged. I had to take a cab back to my hotel in the morning with no handbag, no coat and no shoes (the hospital gave me a pair of socks) and run up to my hotel room to grab the cash to pay the cabbie.
For the rest of the week, several high-powered industry executives, who had witnessed my humiliation, jokingly asked me if I would be “on water” at the roster of cocktail parties that evening.
And that is why I don’t drink cosmopolitans.
