whats your best drinking story? - eviltoast

Don’t dox yourself btw. It’s the storytellers prerogative to take a bit of creative license.

  • infinitevalence@discuss.online
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    1 year ago

    I met my friends playing EVE online and if I have soul mates they are a bunch of overweight neck beards and one gimp with cerebral palsy.

    Fast-forward 10 years we don’t play EVE but we still drink and take vacations together and away from kids/spouse/responsibility.

    We decided that a fishing trip is in order but this time freshwater not salt or deep sea. We all fly to Tahoe for a fun week.

    2 days in and I get a call from my partner and we have a really shitty connection because it’s still the dark ages of 2g. They let me know that they are buying a car… I’m like WTF can’t it wait until I get home from vacation… Nope Mother in law wants to get her child a gift so either they buy the car that day or no car.

    At this point I’m thinking “guess we spent to much on a wedding because clearly my marriage is over” but thankfully the frustrations of trying to calmly and logically explain why this violates the boundary of the marriage is lost to the frustration of AT&T 2g. Partner gives up turns off the phone and I go inside assuming I just got signed up for years of maintenance and insurance on a vehicle I had no say in… So it’s drinking time.

    We have a charter for the afternoon. We decided to fill the cooler. This is not your normal cooler this is one that could double as a coffin or maybe a refrigerator. If it was all Indiana Jones had in the Crystal skull he probably would have still survived the nuclear blast in it. This sucker is so huge we probably put 10 cases of beer and then filled the rest with ice.

    We show up at the dock with our 8 ft long cooler and the deck hand and captain look at it and say “we have a cooler on the boat you don’t need to bring that”. To which we replied that the cooler was for the beer not the fish. We open the lid to show them and you would think that The Golden light from the suitcase in pulp fiction illuminated our stash of booze from inside of this cooler. The captain in the deckhand immediately knew what kind of charter this was going to be.

    As we’re loading onto the boat they’re telling us the horror story of the family charter before us that caught nothing and had Karen on board. She apparently could find no joy and no fulfillment in her experience and for her child. When we opened that cooler the captain and the deckhand knew that fish or no fish the journey was the experience.

    Cooler in place, gimpy friend with cerebral palsy carefully moved onto the boat, the first beer cracks and then the second and then the third and by the time most of us are starting our fourth beer we cast off from the dock.

    It doesn’t take long until we find a halfway decent spot to fish and the first trout comes out of the water it’s immediately cleaned and eaten raw washed down by more beer. Fishing continues drinking continues as we’re nearing the end of the day. The sun is starting to set over the mountains the idyllic scene is coming to an end. We have at this time consumed about half of the beer that we brought and most of us have no idea what sea legs are.

    On a whim the captain suggests that we find deeper water and see if we can catch anything different and he tells us a fishing tail of a Mackinaw they’ve been hunting. Since this white whale sounds right up our alley and again we’re there for the journey we reel in all of our lines and switch out the weights for heavier duty and deeper waters. Whatever God smiled on us from inside the cooler shine down again on the crystal clear waters of lake Tahoe. Our gimpy friend, the one with cerebral palsy, might as well be a good luck charm as he always seems to catch the best fish. His poll starts to wiggle, he sets the hook, and promptly loses all of his strength. One of my friends grabs him in a giant bear hug and holds him while he reels in this fish from over 150 ft below us in the depths. The Mackinaw comes up and flashes silver as it breaks the water, it’s swim bladder expanding and the fish in shock. Suddenly the line goes slack and the hook falls out.

    The captain seeing what has happened immediately calls out “pull the lines” our years of drunken EVE combat has prepared us for this very moment, instantly the entire boat goes from relaxed jovial laughing and very very drunk to sober and 100% business. All of the lines are reeled in The captain goes full throttle swinging the boat around while the deckhand scrambles to get a net and catch this Mackinaw before it can recover from its shock. As the boat slows in the engine is cut the deckhand leaps over to the bow barely holding on and scoops this mythical Mackinaw out of the water.

    There’s no moment of celebration there’s just quiet repose. When the captain and deckhand look at these middle-aged fat neck beards with their friend who has cerebral palsy. They realize what has just happened and that this random boatload of weirdos and nerds followed orders, sobered up and did exactly what was needed to win.

    At this point the charter is over but the journey has more to go they take their time getting back to the dock while we quietly celebrate. All the fish is cleaned and what’s left of the beer is pushed to the side. We return to our cabin, we fire up the grill, and the Mackinaw takes its place of honor as first onto the grill and first to be eaten.