shocka the monkey

I hooked up with a couple of friends of mine, Brooke and Sean, at Emmitts before meeting M at the United Center for a Peter Gabriel show. M had gotten tickets from a client and the seats were in a sky box, meaning a private party booth with free booze and food. I could only name one song of Peter Gabriel's and that was "Shock the Monkey", although I thought it was "Shocka the Monkey". Kinda like Chaka Khan. In any respect, you don't pass up a United Center sky box when it is offered freely.

So we are sitting at bar at Emmitts bullshitting with the bartender, and he is making really good vodka cranberries. So good in fact, that I am sipping them quite quickly. And this bartender is such a good bartender that once I am finished with one, there is instantly a full one in front of me. All of a sudden, I look at the time and we had 10 minutes to get over to the concert and I had to pee.

As soon as I hopped off the bar stool, I knew I was in trouble. I had been sitting there for two and a half hours, with nothing to eat, drinking God knows how many vodkas. The room was spinning as I staggered to the ladie's room.

Let's talk about the bathroom when you are wasted. There are times when I go in the bathroom, holding the wall, trying not to sit on the pee-splattered toilet and ask myself, gee, I think I ought to slow down with the drinking tonight because I am getting pretty buzzed. Then there are the times when I cover the toilet with toilet paper, pull my pants down and just sit there, thinking, oh fuck, it's already too late, I am wasted, what am I going to do now? This was the stage I had approached that night, and I was on my way to a sky box party with M's clients to see the Shocka the Monkey guy.

After peeing about five gallons of vodka cranberries, Brooke, Sean and I jumped in a cab and headed off. I can't remember much about getting there, although it was only a short cab ride, but once we did arrive, and Brooke and Sean went their separate ways, I had the unhappy task of trying to guess which sky box M was in.

Fortunately, I found the sky box and opened the door. M welcomed me with open arms and introduced me to some people standing around a giant lobster in the middle of the room. Hungry as I was, I was needing a bathroom. Urgently.

A shadow of concern fell across M's face as he realized I was completely drunk. He discretely ushered me out the door and towards the bathrooms. Once we got there, I ran into the handicap stall and collapsed to the floor, hugging the cool bowl to my chest, vomited and passed out.

Time passed. I am not sure how much. I woke up drooling on the floor. Where was M? Why hadn't he came and got me? Was he still waiting outside?

Feeling refreshed in a bizzare sort of way, I composed myself, washed my hands and face, threw on some lipstick and went back to the sky box, and tore into the lobster that everyone had been too polite to eat. Ten minutes later, the concert was over and it was time to leave.