Partying is a necessary evil. It’s a bonding experience. Some days I’m absolutely in the mood to party my face off, dance, laugh, be obnoxious, whiskey-whiskey-whiskey and all that. And the insane shenanigans that ensue are usually awesome. But do I want to do that everyday?
No, thank you.
As I mentioned in an earlier blog, the standard work day while on the road is at least 16 hours smothered in whiskey and beer. Put a lot of those back to back and you can only imagine the unique form of exhaustion. And it was on one of those days of unique exhaustion that the following story takes place.
Once Upon a Time, we were crashing with a friend who decided to invite a handful of people over after the show, which became one of those 3am insta-parties. We were super excited because we had a really short drive to the gig the following evening so we were ACTUALLY going to be able to sleep in for once. FOR ONCE. I only made it about an hour or so (4am). It was a 6 show week and I do have to keep in consideration that staying up drinking until 6am does, in fact, really affect your voice. So I climbed into bed and popped in some fuzzy earplugs and the party continued on around me.
At some point, I know everyone fell asleep. Bodies scattered all over on various couches, pillows, floor, patio furniture, etc. I became aware of this because someone woke up around 9am and couldn’t find their phone.
You know what happens when you’ve been drinking from, and let’s be conservative here, from like, 9pm until 6am and then you fall asleep for 3 hours? You’re still drunk when you wake up. That’s what happens. And that’s what happened here.
One drunk person woke up and couldn’t find their phone. So they felt it was a totally legit thing to wake up EVERYONE else. And because they too were still drunk it seemed completely natural that they should all immediately band together as an epic search party. Thusly, a crazy loud drunk gang started literally tearing the place down at 9am in search of someone’s phone. Yelling, laughing. Someone starting singing. Someone started talking in rhyme. Cans and bottles were crashing to the floor, couch cushions being tossed around. “Where were you last?”, “trace your steps”, “it’s got to be here SOMEwhere” slurred over and over and over and over and over. This went on for over an hour. OVER. AN. HOUR.
Comical? Probably. Probably it was. Like I said, party shenanigans are typically awesome. But this day was different. The level of ridiculousness even surpassed our normal “When in Rome” attitude. Initially, I tried to just keep sleeping, or stay in a sleepy place so that I COULD fall back asleep. He (after a large number of choice words) just got up to try and find the damn phone as the one level-headed person in the bunch. (He is actually the one who ended up finding it.)
If you weren’t exhausted and finally getting an amazing night’s sleep it was probably hilarious. He and I? We are not morning people and we were not amused. And besides that, I NEVER like to start a day with a string of profanity and death threats spilling from my lips. It’s just not a great way to wake up. (Any of you who have at some point slept through your alarm, woken with a startle, looked wide-eyed at the clock and screamed “FUCK” as your first word of the day know exactly what I’m talking about.)
My personal breaking point came when a drunk girl I didn’t know actually climbed into bed with me. “Oh my God, this bed is SO nice! Isn’t it nice? I don’t know you but I’m totally climbing in your bed! Hahahahaha! This must be the best bed in the house. Oh, my GOD, I LOVE this BED!”
On the upside, I am now conscious of the fact that I am capable of murder. Huh. Who knew?
I mumbled to Him, “if we are being forced to be awake, then I demand bacon. Quiet bacon and quiet coffee.”
“Quiet Bacon.” He said.
And without another word, I climbed out of bed. Wearing the exact same clothes we slept in, we walked out of the house, climbed into the Prowler and drove to a diner.
We actually fled the scene. To find some morning peace. That was a first. That was the level of crazy that was happening.
At the diner, Nice Lady gave us coffee and we ordered an extra side of bacon. We sat and ate it in complete silence. Coffee in one hand, bacon in the other. It was perfection.
That’s how “Quiet Bacon” officially became a thing and as it turns out, is the best kind of bacon in the entire universe. You should try it sometime.
And that, boys and girls, is a true tale from the road. Until next time…