For my birthday potluck we played what has to be the most horrible game ever: Shot of beer every minute game. We started off with 6 people all ready to take on the task, with the winner take all cash on the line. But after roughly 6 shots of beer, it was voted that we should at least eat some of the food before playing so that we don't waste the food. Ken and I were totally against this idea as we noticed a few of the contestants were already straining. But democracy rules.
After a couple of hours of eating we resumed, this time with a late contender: Kevin. Kevin's not a regular drinker, I haven't seen him drink heavy since the UBC ski trip a few years back, so I wasn't worried.
The game started out fine, I was feeling good, a few people were already showing signs of weakness in their faces. I noted that my real threats were Shum and Ken. Shum can hold more hard liquor then me and Ken's a tank. After a few more shots, Julio went out as expected, Joe quit due to allergies, leaving the 5 of us still thirsty for more. Unexpectedly a few shots later Shum called quits. Shocked and amazed I looked at Ken who was hunched over. With my main competitor out and the other borderline out I could feel victory in my grasps. But I also felt the effects of all the gas from the beer.
This game is not a test of whether you can hold your liquor or not, it's a test of your stomach size, mine was stuff. Eating before playing this game is ill advised and I found this out the hard way. Phil looked like he was passed out, I'm not sure whether it was the alcohol or the gas. Every minute that passed he'd wake up take a shot then lie back down on the stairs. Kevin looked like he was perfectly fine since he didn't eat all that much.
In a shocking turn of events Ken called it quits and I was slouching over. The heavy weights in this game were all out or pretty much out. The next few shots were seemed magnified, every shot that went down, gas forced it almost all the way back up. My stomach was full it was coming up the throat now. Each minute passed by faster and faster, yet still Phil routinely woke up took a shot then passed out, and Kevin was smiling and drinking.
A few more shots passed and I could hear the clock counting down, I had 10 more seconds to take the shot before I was disqualified. I stared it down, back slouched, hands on the knees for support, I tried to reach out for the shot glass but the beer that was already in me was holding me back. How could I lose? Phil was pretty much sleeping for 59 seconds, Kevin was not ever known as a drinker, yet here I was with 5 second to go but unable to take a hold of the shot glass.
3...2...1...booooo
I was disqualified, filled with shame and disappointment I admitted defeat. With everyone knocked out, there remained only the two under dogs, this was a sad day in the Tequila Boys history books.
Three more shots later Phil awoke to take the shot, then proceeded to puke his lungs out all over my backyard. Kevin had won. A late contender, he hadn't eaten anything, if this was hard liquor the outcome would have been different. I ran through all the excuses in my head, but the better man won the game and I'm sure he could've taken more.
The shot of beer every minute game (I don't know the official name) is a horrible game, it forces you to drink against your will, it forces food down your stomach, it forces gas up your throat, and it forces you to remain in concentration just to avoid vomiting. Rest assured that the next time I do play this game I will starve myself for a week first.
No comments:
Post a Comment