Last night, like every other Friday night, I was quite excited in the evening. The week was coming to an end; no more waking up at 7 in the morning for two consecutive days; no more making breakfast at 7:30 and lunch at 1; and I could just sit outside and wallow in the sun (if it came out that is). What I mean to say is that Friday nights are a time of celebration and I intend to make full use of it. So I either go out and party with my friends till the wee hours of the morning in pubs and clubs and open airs. Since I live in Berlin, finding a place to party is not hard at all on a Friday night.
Recently I have got a tad attached to card games, not poker but others that involve drinking or those that can be morphed into a drinking game. So I decided that playing a drinking game with a few games of cards would be a good idea for a Friday night. Around 9 in the evening three of my friends converged in my living room with bottles of rum, vodka and cola for what promised to be a night of drunken fun. Man, were we mistaken!
We started off with a game of Durak. Everyone starts with five cards and one random card suit is chosen to be the trump. The goal of the game is to finish all your cards before the others. After every round, the loser of the round had to drink. We played it a few times and started playing Hearts. You know that game. The only rule we added was that every time you get a point you had to drink. By this time, the vodka bottle was half empty while the bottle of rum was still almost full.
By the time we moved on to playing Asshole, a college card game of bluffing into which we had included drinking rules, we were in a bad shape - all of us. The vodka bottle was a little over half empty and the rum had hardly been tasted and the clock read ten minuted to twelve. We were not very drunk but we were tired. One of my friends could not stop yawning, while the other rested his elbow on the table and his head in his hand, while the other was stretched out on the chair so precariously that any moment he would have slipped under the table. As for me, I could hardly keep my eyes open.
We used to be quite the party animals, drinking and partying throughout the night and guzzling liters of alcohol. Seeing the state we were in last evening, no one was willing to be the first one to stop even though none of us could carry on any longer. Finally around a quarter past midnight, when the shuffling and distribution of the cards became too slow, and I could not keep my eyelids apart without using external force, I decided to call it quits. No one protested or made fun but gladly relinquished the game and decided to call it a night. Thy all stayed over at my place for the night.
I am now in my late twenties, a time when I should be full of energy and party spirit. But unlike in the movies where even the thirty and forty year olds seem to be partying like crazy, I feel like the eighty year old guy at the bar, sitting on the bar stool and sipping his scotch. I absolutely do not mind that because I like to enjoy certain drinks and not pour it down my throat at light speed but the idea that I will have no choice in this matter kind of scares me. I do not know what to do. Should I accept this change or make an effort to emulate my old self? Will either of them make me happy?
Recently I have got a tad attached to card games, not poker but others that involve drinking or those that can be morphed into a drinking game. So I decided that playing a drinking game with a few games of cards would be a good idea for a Friday night. Around 9 in the evening three of my friends converged in my living room with bottles of rum, vodka and cola for what promised to be a night of drunken fun. Man, were we mistaken!
We started off with a game of Durak. Everyone starts with five cards and one random card suit is chosen to be the trump. The goal of the game is to finish all your cards before the others. After every round, the loser of the round had to drink. We played it a few times and started playing Hearts. You know that game. The only rule we added was that every time you get a point you had to drink. By this time, the vodka bottle was half empty while the bottle of rum was still almost full.
By the time we moved on to playing Asshole, a college card game of bluffing into which we had included drinking rules, we were in a bad shape - all of us. The vodka bottle was a little over half empty and the rum had hardly been tasted and the clock read ten minuted to twelve. We were not very drunk but we were tired. One of my friends could not stop yawning, while the other rested his elbow on the table and his head in his hand, while the other was stretched out on the chair so precariously that any moment he would have slipped under the table. As for me, I could hardly keep my eyes open.
We used to be quite the party animals, drinking and partying throughout the night and guzzling liters of alcohol. Seeing the state we were in last evening, no one was willing to be the first one to stop even though none of us could carry on any longer. Finally around a quarter past midnight, when the shuffling and distribution of the cards became too slow, and I could not keep my eyelids apart without using external force, I decided to call it quits. No one protested or made fun but gladly relinquished the game and decided to call it a night. Thy all stayed over at my place for the night.
I am now in my late twenties, a time when I should be full of energy and party spirit. But unlike in the movies where even the thirty and forty year olds seem to be partying like crazy, I feel like the eighty year old guy at the bar, sitting on the bar stool and sipping his scotch. I absolutely do not mind that because I like to enjoy certain drinks and not pour it down my throat at light speed but the idea that I will have no choice in this matter kind of scares me. I do not know what to do. Should I accept this change or make an effort to emulate my old self? Will either of them make me happy?
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