Happy Birthday John Davis

Hi, my name is Davis.

RITCHIE: When are the strippers showing up?

It's my birthday.

I'm not telling you what birthday it is, because I hate birthdays and the only reason I celebrate them is because it gives me an excuse to act like a drunken fool without anyone judging me.

I get more drunk on my birthday than any other day of the year--the only other day that even comes close is Thanksgiving.

HANK: So who's coming to this fiesta?

The plan was as follows: Get a few of my closest friends over to my place. It's important not to have one of those free-for-alls where everyone is invited, because let's face it--a party's only as good as the people that aren't invited to it.

Step two, get everyone plastered.

Step three, head to the club to revel in debauchery.

Currently, we were in the middle of steps one and two.

The guest list was as follows: Joey, Ritchie (because as much as I hate to admit it, if you want your party to be decent, you have to invite Ritchie), Hank, a few RI-TRI boys (I had to bury the hatcher with some of them in order to turn them against each other), and Carter--I'm not even sure I invited him, but whatever--he's cute.

Jeremy would be joining us at the club later. This was partly because things were bound to be a little awkward now that he doesn't live here anymore, and partly because he doesn't drink, so he really wasn't missing out on much.

I was already more hammered than a sorority girl during rush week.

ME: When are we bringing this party to Prisms?
RITCHIE: We are not going to Prisms. It's a Saturday, which means it's filled with idiots and the cover is outrageous. We'll go to Bowie's.
HANK: With the sugar daddies?
RITCHIE: Why go otherwise? Ritchie wants his drinks bought for him tonight.
HANK: I can't argue with that.
ME: Is it hot in here or...Fraggles?
JOEY: Babe, are you feeling all right?
ME: Yeah, yeah, YEAH! Let's go party!

Things were already getting blurry.

CARTER: Anyone want to see my underwear?

I don't actually remember going to the club, being at the club, coming home from the club, or anything else that happened that night. I woke up with Joey sitting on the bed next to me.

ME: Give it to me straight, Joey.
JOEY: You made out with Carter.
ME: Well, that was bound to happen.
JOEY: I immediately forgave you since you kept saying your name was Toyran and you were from Ohio.
ME: What else did I do?
JOEY: Recited all of "What a Man" by En Vogue, called Ronnie the Bartender a "leering waste of excess organs--"
ME: I would have called him that even if I wasn't drunk.
JOEY: There's one more thing.
ME: Uh huh?
JOEY: You told Jeremy you loved him and he left the club.
ME: I...Wait, what?
JOEY: You confessed your undying love to Jeremy. Said you couldn't live without him.
ME: Oh...
JOEY: That I couldn't forgive you for. I mean, I did, but now I don't think we can see each other anymore.
ME: Fair enough. Why am I wearing a turtleneck? I don't own a turtleneck.
JOEY: You insisted on wearing it. It took Hank, Ritchie, and I an hour to get you into bed and asleep. Ritchie then suggested a three and a halfway--the half being because you were unconscious--but I just wasn't up for it and sent the two of them home.
ME: Thanks.
JOEY: I'll be leaving now.
ME: Okay. I'm really sorry.
JOEY: Don't mention it. Happy Birthday, Davis.
ME: You too.
JOEY: That doesn't--oh never mind.

He got up and left, and I fell back asleep.

Before that happened, I tried to make a mental note to myself:

Apologize to Jeremy for...confessing...undying love...

F**k me.