My 20 year class reunion and how I basically died.

My reunion was this past month.

Or so I’m told.

See, ole Ed had a few too many. How many is too many, you ask?

Well, the reunion started around 6pm and lasted until about midnight.

I had a couple Crown & Cokes at the cash bar, and visited with some old friends.

The guy who was our class president found me at the bar and asked if I would be doing standup that night. I explained that it was talked about, but that nothing was decided beforehand, so I never prepared anything.

He said that was bullshit and he wanted me to do it anyway. I explained that I had not consumed nearly enough alcohol for provide an impromptu performance.

He immediately ordered shots of some fancy Irish whiskey. And several more followed.

I eventually made my way to the table where my wife & sister-in-law (who married my best friend from High School) were seated.

At this point, things are getting foggy.

Eventually, I was handed a microphone with the request of “At least give us a one-liner. Something quick.”

Anybody who knows me or my comedy knows, Ed don’t do one-liners. I think I told some story about my dad or something, which pretty much bombed.

It must have been bad, because when I turned around, my wife said something about how my comedy doesn’t work with one-liners or something. And, the guy I handed the mic back to thought he needed to save the moment by trying a one-liner of his own, which I’m pretty sure got more laughs than me.

After that, my BFF/Brother-in-Law said “Let’s do some shots”, and off to the bar we went.

That was about 8:30pm.

And that’s the last thing I remember.

Until I woke up. At 5 a.m. In my backyard.

Now, I started the evening drinking $3 crown & cokes, which I was paying cash for from the $30 I had in my pocket. I remember ordering 3 of those, plus a double. This is in addition to all the shots people were buying me.

However, at some point, I must have started a tab, because I woke up with a receipt in my pocket for $75! AND no cash!

Although I have no memory of the night, I got a detailed report from the wife. Without even asking for it.

I also questioned my Brother-in-Law about the evening’s festivities.

Here are some of the highlights:

2 people told my wife that she needed to cut me off and take me home. Evidently I had grabbed their crotch and ass. They were both men.

I bump&grind-ed with some “fat girl” on the dance floor.

I keep yelling “Fuck you!” and “Shut the fuck up!” to no one in particular.

I told my sister-in-law that my brother-in-law was passed out on the floor of the bathroom. No one remembers if he actually was.

I evidently said, on several occasions, “I want some blonde because I get brown at home”.

I sat at the bar and did Snakebite shots with my Brother-in-law for over an hour.

At one point, I order a full glass of whiskey, and forced the class president to try and drink it all. He managed to choke down half, and I finished the rest.

I yelled at the spouse of a classmate, “Who the FUCK are you?! You weren’t in my class!”

I kept whispering to people, really loudly. Or, whispering so close it bordered on giving them a hicky.

We didn’t leave till after midnight, because I refused to leave.

Then, I refused to get in the cab of the truck. Evidently, I kept shutting my foot in the door and telling my wife, “It’s fine, just go!” When she would try to tell me otherwise, I would say, “Shut up and drive!”, which she refused.

I eventually got in the back of the truck bed, which is how I made the 15 min trip home.

Like I said, I have no memory of this. My first memory is waking up freezing in the backyard at 5am.

I was still drunk till about 2pm the next day.

And hungover until the day following.

Pretty sure I must have had alcohol poisoning. It’s a miracle I did not die.

AND that my wife did not leave me.

Lessons learned:

I will never again say, “I haven’t had nearly enough to drink yet to do that.” That is basically a challenge.

Scotch whiskey, Irish whiskey, and Tequila don’t get along.

I’m kind of a dick, with a hidden preference for blondes and fat girls. And maybe even a closet bisexual.

I don’t have that little inside voice that says, “Maybe you should quit. You’ve probably had enough.”

I suck at whispering.

I have the BEST Wife in the World!

Seriously, it’s a miracle she hasn’t murdered me in my sleep.

Yet.