I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell (19 page)

BOOK: I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell
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Day Four: The Trip Home

This was not the end of EI Bingeroso's problems. He made the catastrophic mistake of calling his fiancee while in the drunk tank, waking her up at 3am, and then calling her parents. Let me reiterate: HE CALLED HER PARENTS FROM JAIL. He was in quite the shit storm of trouble with her, plus he had a drunk and disorderly charge to deal with, so he had to stay in Austin a few more days. The other three of us decided to head back to Dallas, and then Durham. I believe I put it as such, "We might as well go back to Dallas; there is nothing left to do in Austin. What else could we do that would top the last two nights? Burn down the city? Kill the governor?" As I am checking out of the Embassy Suites, the manager comes out of the office and asks to speak to me. "Mr. Max, were you the one who had, ahem, 'an accident,' in the lobby two nights ago?" I told her it was me indeed, and that I was sorry, that 1was not accustomed to the effects of the drink and I would seek help as soon as I returned to
Durham. She did not smile. "I have to inform you that you will no longer be able to stay at this, or any other Embassy Suites, ever again."

What?

"Sir, we have a national 'Do not accommodate' database that your name has been added to. After your incident, we would prefer you not stay at any of our hotels again."

I was permanently banned from ALL Embassy Suites. Forever.

Well ... I guess sometimes actions do have consequences.

When we got to Dallas, we checked back into the same Radisson, and slept until dinner time, then went out in Deep Ellum.

Fast forward to the next morning. I had been up all night drinking and fornicating with some girl when I walk into the hotel room at 8am and find vomit all over the floor. Apparently the Reuben sandwich SlingBlade ordered last night at the bar wasn't the best of ideas. He was in full-on SlingBlade time-to-go-to-the-ER mode. The kid has the constitution of a six-year-old lupus victim, and after four nights of raucous drinking and corporeal abuse, his frail Bubble-boy immune system had shut down.

He crawled into the backseat of his eggplant purple Saturn, curled up into the fetal position and let out moans every few minutes, as PWJ and I drove back to Durham. We were somewhere in Arkansas when SlingBlade shot up and started hitting the back of my seat. I freaked out, swerved all over the road, but before I could get to the shoulder I heard it come loose,

"BLAAAAHHHHHH."

Sling Blade opened the door, leaned halfway out and just let loose, vomiting all over his own car. He eventually got out of the car and started vomiting again in the grass.

After a good solid five minute puke-session, he crawled back in the car and we took off. Not even a minute later, he starts slapping at his legs and yelling in pain. The idiot stepped in a red ant nest while vomiting, then tracked a bunch of them into the car. Before we knew it, all three
of us where swatting angry red ants off of us. We had to pull off at the next exit.

SlingBlade found himself at some redneck roadside gas station in Arkansas, cleaning vomit and red ants out of his car ... using newspaper, because this gas station didn't have a vacuum.

He nearly lost it, "This is pretty much the worst day of my life, and I have only been awake for three hours. I refuse to believe this is happening."

The rest of the trip was rather uneventful; while PWJ and I discussed all order of semantics and philosophy and other nerd topics, SlingBlade slept and moaned and cried. Somewhere around Chattanooga, he woke up, scribbled something on a scrap of paper, handed it to us, and passed back out. It read:

"Please kill me."

The Epilogue

Texas hasn't been the same since that October. Unfortunately, the Baby Dolls that I wrote about no longer exists. Dallas zoning laws have changed the club, and though it still stands, it's no longer the bastion of debauchery it once was.

A few weeks after we were on 6th street, Cheers Shot Bar caught fire from Flaming Dr Peppers and though it was fine, the drink was banned after that in Austin. You can still get them at some bars, but officially they are illegal.

And much to my dismay, I have heard that The Shocker is now banned in Texas.

As far as I know, I am still banned from all Embassy Suites. I had forgotten about this until about two years later when I tried to register at an Embassy Suites in Atlanta. Lo and behold, my name was still in the database and 'Tucker Max" was not allowed to register as a guest. A small price to pay for what is probably the funniest story of my life. For the four Duke Law School friends who went on the trip, things were also never the same.

For EI Bingeroso, it marked the last true balls-out drink-and-destroy
weekend he had as a (nearly) single man. After waking up in the Austin City Jail covered in piss and vomit with a huge black eye, he really had to check himself, realize that he is engaged and in love and needs to stop acting like Colin Farrell. He married Kristy that next summer. He still drinks, sometimes to excess, but the EI Bingeroso we saw that night is dead. He wasn't even like that during his bachelor party when we hired a bunch of strippers and a midget.

The reforms that EI Bingeroso implemented began at the Duke Law Halloween Party. Before he left for the road trip, he had convinced Kristy to wear a French maid outfit to the party. He even bought it a month ahead of time he was so excited. Kristy was predictably unhappy about EI Bingeroso's antics in Austin, and as his first public act of contrition, he wore her French maid outfit to the Halloween party, while she wore an orange prison jumpsuit. Quite the couple they were ... and still are.

For SlingBlade and PWJ, pretty much nothing changed because they never grow as people. Sling Blade is still bitter, utterly lonely, risk averse and continues to have issues with women. PWJ is still a bad person who is unable to resist any girl with big tits. Much to our amusement, his dealings with The Manatee did not end that night. She never told PWJ her name or address, yet she knew his name, found out his address, and a few weeks later sent him a thank you note, with no return address, along with a check for her share of the cab fare from 6th street to her apartment. The check was for $3.64 . It was a Muppet Show check.

In true Chinese Zen flow of life style, from the ashes of EI Bingeroso rose the phoenix that you know as Tucker Max. I'd done plenty of crazy and out of control shit in my life, but that was the first weekend I consciously took a voice recorder out with me, and that was the first weekend I ever really understood how truly insane and funny my life is. I returned to Durham with 10 pages of quotes and thought to myself, ''This would make a great movie." It was the flap of the butterfly wings at the exact right place at the exact right time that eventually led to Hurricane Max. I didn't realize it then, and I fought it for another three years, but after that weekend my life arc was irreversibly redirected away from law and towards writing.

MY KEY WEST TRI
P

Occurred-July 2001 Written-February 2005

When I lived in Boca, I was seeing a girl who had more money tha
n
she knew what to do with. Daddy was a big real estate developer i
n
South Florida and loved his little girl, and Tucker loved his little girl'
s
fake tits and black AMEX [for the poor people: A black Centurio
n
American Express card is reserved for those who spend more tha
n
$150,000 a year on other AMEX cards]
.

One day I told her that I had never been to Key West. The next day w
e
were on a chartered jet from West Palm Beach to Key West, had
a
limo meet us at the airport and take us to a really nice hotel on Duva
l
Street. The plane, the limo and the hotel room all had bars in them, s
o
by the time we got settled in our room, like 11pm, we were prett
y
tanked. I can get used to this
.

Now, even though Daddy'sGirl had lots of money, sadly she couldn'
t
seem to afford any brains. She was 18 and had left Florida State tw
o
months into her freshman year because it was too difficult. Seriousl
y
that's not "too difficult" as a euphemism for "sucked 100 dicks in
a
month;" she was literally just too stupid for Florida State. TOO STUPI
D
FOR FREE SHOE UNIVERSITY! If this seems hard to believe, it'
s
because you don't know any Florida girls. After a year there, you sto
p
being shocked at these things
.

Daddy'sGirl wanted to go to some bars, but she neglected to bring he
r
fake 10 ... or even realize that she NEEDED A FAKE 10 TO GE
T
INTOABAR
.
Tucker "How do you get into bars?
"
Daddy'sGirl "I don't know. In Palm Beach they just let us in. Everyon
e
knows my daddy. Or we drink at The Breakers or one of the othe
r
country clubs. No one has ever asked me for an ID.
"
Tucker "Did it occur to you that we aren't in Palm Beach anymore?
"
Daddy'sGirl "But I thought EVERYBODY knew my daddy!
"
Tucker [blank stare
]
Daddy'sGirl "This is so unfair!
"
Tucker "It's a good thing you are rich, otherwise you'd have alread
y
have been spit out the bottom of the porn industry.
"
Daddy'sGirl "What? I told you that I don't like porn. It's gross.
"

I just walked off
.

We get back to the hotel and decide to order champagne an
d
strawberries and go down to the hot tub. Cliche, I know, but look at th
e
girl I was working with. You can't make chardonnay out of shit
.
I know that Cristal gets all the press because rappers have discovere
d
it, but let me tell you something: Cristal is overrated and rappers ar
e
stupid. If I want to slang dope or steal a car, I am going straight to DM
X
to get advice, but for insanely expensive limited edition vintage alcohols
,
I think I'll get my counsel elsewhere, thank you
.

I made the mistake of asking Daddy'sGirl what she wanted
:
Daddy'sGirl "Ohh-Iet's get Crista!!
"
Tucker "What's your favorite TV show?
"
Daddy'sGirl "I don't know. I guess
TRL.
Or
The Real World.
"
Tucker "Let's leave the ordering to me.
"

The hotel had a great selection, so I got us a bottle of 90 Bollinge
r
Grande Annee. I think it was $450. It's not every day I have access t
o
an unlimited credit line
.

We head down to the hot tub, and it is a really nice set up. Half hidde
n
from the rest of the pool area by foliage, super hot water with lots o
f
shallow places to sit. It took a glass and a half of champagne for her t
o
loosen up, but after that, it was easy. Top off, panties off ... full-on se
x
in the hot tub, here we come
.

We finished off and put our robes on. As we walked back toward th
e
lobby, I glanced up at the balcony overlooking the pool area and notice
d
this guy staring at us. He was zipping up his pants, breathin
g
heavily and sweating. He muttered
:

"Thanks. You just saved me $9.95.
"

Daddy'sGirl looks up, and even though she is dumber than a burla
p
sack, she is not stupid enough to miss this. She immediately busts ou
t
in tears, "OH MY GOD!!! AHHHHHHH!!!," and runs back into the hotel
.

I just start laughing
.

Tucker "No problem. We've all been there.
"

I don't know why I said that. I have never in my life jacked off whil
e

watching other people fuck. Well, not in person. Of course I jack off t
o
porn all the time, but come on, porn stars are only objects for our sexua
l
gratification, not real people
.

Daddy'sGirl was so shook up and upset about this she took tw
o
Valium to sleep and made us leave at like 6am the next day, insistin
g
that we go out the back door
.

Daddy'sGirl "WHAT IF WE SEE HIM AGAIN??!
"

Tucker "I don't know. Charge him for the show this time.
"

When we got back to Palm Beach, she didn't call me for like thre
e
days. I called her, and she was not happy to hear from me
.
Tucker "What is wrong with you?
"

Daddy'sGirl "Well, TUCKER, you gave me an STD!
"
Tucker "What? Which one?
"
Daddy'sGirl "A urinary tract infection! I can't believe it!!
"

I couldn't stop laughing. For like two minutes, she was screaming a
t
me on the phone as I teared up with laughter. I tried to make he
r
understand that UTI's aren't really STD's and that she got the UTI fro
m
the bacteria in the hot tub and not from me, but that concept was fa
r
too hard for her to wrap her head around. She hung up on me
.
In a fun turn of events, about 4 months later I got this voicemail fro
m
her: "Hey Tucker ... uh, I am sorry ... I guess you didn't give me an STD
.
I had sex last week with my boyfriend in my parents' hot tub, and th
e
same thing happened he got tested and didn't have a UTI ... so
I
guess you were right anyway, I broke up with him before he foun
d
out and now he won't call me anymore ... what are you doing thi
s
weekend?
"

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