So my dear friend, Garrett, turned 21 on Saturday night. Lawrence, Luke, Garrett, Bo, Nelson, and me and a few others go out to this bar (The Backroom) to celebrate. Garrett is already pretty drunk when we get there.
Well my friend, Lawrence, is the kind of guy who likes to waste money on people when it's his or her b-day. He likes to buy people drinks, basically...it doesn't matter what day it is. He's just a very generous fellow.
So he's making circles the entire night (from the bar to Garrett to the bar to Garrett), passing him whiskey shot after whiskey shot. Garrett becomes more and more ridiculous, laughing like a little girl, screaming, "I love everyone!" and stumbling over himself, and somehow being surprisingly skillful in a game of Stripes & Solids. I'm kind of freaking out and being a mom, yelling, "Guys! No more drinks for this man!!!!"
Lawrence is still trying to pass Garret whiskey shots and I'm standing in his way.
I'm yelling, "Lawrence! No more for Garrett, man. Look at him!"
Lawrence is saying, "Will! Get out of my way, man!!"
side note: (Lawrence, if you read this. You mean well and I love you)
Lawrence passes Garrett 2 more shots and as Garrett turns his back, I grab both shots and gulp them down and put them back in Garrett's hand. When Lawrence turns back around, he is like "Whoa Garrett! Geez!"
Garrett's public drunkenness escalates rather quickly (considering he's had at least 15 or 16...maybe getting close to 21 drinks). Not only Lawrence is giving him drinks...Bo is also giving him drinks and so is Luke and so is some random girl.
Luke turns to me and says, "Will, we need to get Garrett home. We can't have him in the bar like this. He's gonna start puking soon."
I volunteer to take Garrett back to Maplehurst (where Garret and Luke live). Luke says he'll follow behind me, considering it's a 2-man job carrying Garrett to his bedroom from my car. So I get to Maplehurst and sit there for about 10 minutes. I call Luke and he doesn't answer. I call him again 20 minutes later and he says he is with the cops and for me to wait a bit (his wind-shield had been shattered). So I wait for about another hour. Garrett falls asleep, snoring loudly with his head on my gear-changer. I try waking him up to see if he can walk or even talk, but he just isn't waking up.
Luke FINALLY shows up after about an hour and a half of me waiting. Luke rushes over to my car and opens Garrett's door. Garrett is asleep, so Luke starts slapping Garrett's face and yelling, "Garrett, wake the hell up!"
Garrett is not responding.
Luke starts worrying a bit more.
Luke and I are staring at each other, wondering what to do.
Luke decides to call Lawrence.
All of a sudden, Luke screams, "Will Will Will...Garrett is throwing up!!!"
We turn around and rush over to my car and open Garrett's door. He is throwing up all over my passenger seat, all over himself, all over his arm, all over my pants, all over my arms, all over his face, all over the place.
Luke and I are trying to get Garrett to throw up on the ground without it going on any of us, but Garrett's whole body is limp. His right arm falls down in his throw-up and as we're lifting that arm up, his other arm falls down in his throw-up.
Luke says, "Will, we can't both lift him. I'm gonna go grab Zach or Kristian."
Zach and Kris live in Maplehurst and are friends of ours.
Zach and Luke end up coming back to my car.
The 3 of us wipe Garrett down with a towel...and my legs and arms. We somehow figure out a way to lift Garrett out of my car. The 3 of us manage to carry him all the way from my car to his bedroom...2 flights of stairs between us.
So we get Garrett up to his bathroom. I'm basically hugging Garrett (from behind) for the next 2 hours. My right hand is on his forehead and my left is on his stomach...the toilet just directly below Garrett's head (I'm trying to get him to throw-up). Garrett is completely "not there" at all and thinks the toilet is a pillow and keeps trying to force his head down. My arms are starting to hurt from trying to keep Garrett from getting a concussion.
Zach is at Garrett's feet and Luke is standing there in the doorway.
I look over at Luke and say, "Dude, we need to all 3 pray for Garrett."
Luke says, "Dude, I've been praying."
The 3 of us are encouraging Garrett to throw-up. We are also trying to get him to speak just a word of English or to even make a noise.
Garrett starts groaning and this seriously excites us because he's making a noise.
Garrett is throwing up off and on for about 2 hours. Well, he then starts throwing up black bile.
Luke looks over at me with these scared eyes and says, "Will, we need to rush him to a hospital. I have heard that if someone throws up black bile, to rush them straight to the E.R."
So we 3 have to carry Garrett back down to my car, going down 2 flights of stairs.
I speed the entire way to UT Medical Center. I run through about 4 or 5 red lights.
When we get to the E.R., 2 men rush out to my car with a wheel chair and wheel him right in.
The front desk lady tells us that he should be out by about noon the next day.
Well, here it is, 6 in the morning. So we decide to give them our cell numbers and head home.
Luke and Bo end up going back the next day to get Garrett. Bo tells me that Garrett was in a good mood.
Garrett apparently had a catheter inserted into some part of him. The doctor's had to pump activated charcoal into his system to dry out any poison.
Garrett tells me later, "Dude, my nurse was cute and so I had my way with her. I just wanted to get out of there."
Bo said that Garrett was wearing one of those gowns with the open back. Bo said Garrett's butt was just "there" for everyone to see.
I'm glad you're alive, Garrett. I love you, man.