What the HECK?! Embarrassing events caused by alcohol

I was working at a restaurant in STL called The Bristol. I hung out with a lot of older people, since I was the youngest employee at 16. For a coworker's going away party, someone got me a case of Smirnoff Ice. I'd never had it before and it tasted like soda. So I finished the 6-pack in 30 minutes. I puked all over the lawn in front of everyone. Then I had to babysit the next morning at 8 and ran to the bathroom every hour or so to vomit.

My cousin, who is two years younger than me, came to visit while we were in high school. My best friends and I took her to Rigazzi's, since they don't card. We got hammered and went to a party. On the way home I puked out the side of my car and we had to get buckets of water to wash it off so my parents wouldn't see it.

I had a few too many tequila drinks and puked in the bathroom of Remmington's Downtown. My friend Kari had to block the stall because it had no door and I was apparently flashing everyone. I really wasted the pretty that night. When I was taken home, my roommates got me upstairs and I started puking in the bathtub (where I INSISTED was the only place I would puke). My hand slipped, I fell head first into my own vomit, and had a huge shiner on my forehead for 2 weeks.

Kari and I had gone to our friend Nicole's wedding shower. My boss makes some pretty strong martinis, and I was REEdiculous by the time we got there. Kari tried to get us back stage by showing her business card and explaining that she designed his posters. When that didn't work we snuck on the empty tour bus and started snooping. Got caught, chased out, ran away down Campbell.

When Dylan and I had just started talking, I went out one night for Dead Day Eve. I made up a story that my friends and I were going to get arrested, and could he come get me. Well, he thought I meant JUST me, until 6 blacked out girls stumbled into his car (one mumbling, "I'm gonna puke.") He had to take them to 3 separate locations before arriving back at my dorm.
Somehow, I convinced him to stay, and we snuck him in through the emergency exit (the alarm was sounding while we ran up 6 flights of stairs.) Then, my friend Katie came in to tell us she was leaving. I forgot this, and kept saying I was going to "check on my friends" as an excuse to go to the bathroom and throw up. Reeeealll slick. Oh, and then I spilled my water all over my pillows and slept in them. I woke up and asked "Why is my face all wet?"
THEN, when he was leaving, my roommate woke up and said "Wow, you snore reeeeallly loud."
Everyone was in agreement that he would never call me again. They were miraculously wrong.

Dylan and I went to dinner one night before he had to work at Piano Bar. I was meeting some friends at Red Room. I had a salad and he had the crabcakes. At dinner, he gave me a very stern lecture about keeping myself in control so as not to embarrass him in front of the people working at Piano Bar.
So I went to Red Room and had 6 martinis (they were half price!) When I got to Piano Bar, Dylan told me just to hang out while they closed down the bar. I wandered around, drank a few beers, had a few shots, the usual.
I made it to the bathroom, puked all over my shoes and panties, and then proceeded to sit there for an hour because I had NO idea what to do. Dylan found me and sent me home in a cab. When I got home (and promptly vomited all over the lawn) I started thinking about how I stunk. I wanted to smell good when Dylan got home. The last thing I remember is getting in the shower.
Apparently Dylan came home 2 hours later to me passed out in a running shower, mumbling about how hot it was.
The next morning I got the "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed" talk. Yikes! Now we blame it on the lettuce, not the martinis. Watch out for bad lettuce when you're drinking people, it's baaad news.

There is a bar in Westport, MO called America's Pub. I went there with my best friend Katy. Most of the cleinte are fat girls in tube tops and north country hoosiers who think they're balling because they got into the plumbers union. So we were looking pretty good. We got invited to "vip" by one such hoosier. VIP consisted of walking up two steps and past a rope. There we proceded to get trashed on red bull and vodka (what else?) Then a random guy came up to us.
Him: Hey ladies.
Me: Wow, you have a lot of tattoos.
Him: Yeah, I have one somewhere else. Want to see it?
Katy: On your DICK?
Him: Yup (whips it out to reveal an inch wide black star right on the head of his penis)
Me: Oh god, I think I'm going to be sick.
Katy: That's aaaawesome!

Pretty much any time I drink tequila I either black out or throw up. Good times!

I was working at Rockin the Landing for the RFT when I interned the summer after my freshman year of college. My boss got me one too many huricanes and I puked all over the grass outside the RFT booth. And I was 19. Super.