The greatest institution in the world: The AntiFrat Delta f. A way of life since 2002. Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Coty just didn't want to stop partying
Ah, Birthdays. The one time of the year it's not just okay to act like a complete drunken fool, it's pretty much expected. There is no exception to this in our house at all.
Last Sunday was Coty's twenty-first birthday, and Saturday night was his time to shine, at least that's what he said, anyway. I tend to agree: if there is a birthday that's you're going to make memorable, it might as well be your twenty first. I'm reasonably sure that he made good - I don't know, I wasn't there for most of it. I was, on the other hand, in the house when he got back from the ol' bar at about three in the morning; the rest of us were all in bed.
At one point, I went to use the washroom and found Coty passed out in a chair clutching a Styrofoam take-out container. Chris and I both tried our hands at getting him up, but all he seemed to do was ensure us that he wasn't "that drunk, " an he'll do what he wants to. So be it - I go back to bed.
All is quiet for about an hour. All of a sudden, there's a pretty slurred conversation going on at bar. Funny thing is, there was only one voice: It was Coty, and the conversation was getting pretty heated from what I could hear. Enough so that Justin came downstairs and asked very politely what the hell Coty was doing, also realizing that it was his birthday and all.
"I'm gis wrelly fucked-up..." Was the answer, and I don't think Justin (or I for that matter at this point) was going to argue. Apparently, Coty just didn't want to stop partying. More power to him.
Then it got weird, though. After about five minutes, Coty is running around the house going "whoooooo hooooo!!" and talking to himself bigtime. He's outside at one point, then back inside - even back at the bar at one point. Eventually, Coty is down in his room with the music so loud that my windows are shaking. I can still here him though, singing the lyrics like a champ. I feel almost bad to stop Coty's self-party, but at this point at's five a.m., and I need to sleep.
It still kills me that when I went downstairs to ask him to turn it down, there was a look of genuine surprise in his eye that I wouldn't still be partying too! Half of me wanted to grab a bottle and join him. Unfortunately, the other half of me (a much more tired half) wanted to sleep. I'm guessing Coty had a good birthday.
Last Sunday was Coty's twenty-first birthday, and Saturday night was his time to shine, at least that's what he said, anyway. I tend to agree: if there is a birthday that's you're going to make memorable, it might as well be your twenty first. I'm reasonably sure that he made good - I don't know, I wasn't there for most of it. I was, on the other hand, in the house when he got back from the ol' bar at about three in the morning; the rest of us were all in bed.
At one point, I went to use the washroom and found Coty passed out in a chair clutching a Styrofoam take-out container. Chris and I both tried our hands at getting him up, but all he seemed to do was ensure us that he wasn't "that drunk, " an he'll do what he wants to. So be it - I go back to bed.
All is quiet for about an hour. All of a sudden, there's a pretty slurred conversation going on at bar. Funny thing is, there was only one voice: It was Coty, and the conversation was getting pretty heated from what I could hear. Enough so that Justin came downstairs and asked very politely what the hell Coty was doing, also realizing that it was his birthday and all.
"I'm gis wrelly fucked-up..." Was the answer, and I don't think Justin (or I for that matter at this point) was going to argue. Apparently, Coty just didn't want to stop partying. More power to him.
Then it got weird, though. After about five minutes, Coty is running around the house going "whoooooo hooooo!!" and talking to himself bigtime. He's outside at one point, then back inside - even back at the bar at one point. Eventually, Coty is down in his room with the music so loud that my windows are shaking. I can still here him though, singing the lyrics like a champ. I feel almost bad to stop Coty's self-party, but at this point at's five a.m., and I need to sleep.
It still kills me that when I went downstairs to ask him to turn it down, there was a look of genuine surprise in his eye that I wouldn't still be partying too! Half of me wanted to grab a bottle and join him. Unfortunately, the other half of me (a much more tired half) wanted to sleep. I'm guessing Coty had a good birthday.
# posted by tylert @ 4:12 p.m. 
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