The Best Night ever in STL - share your experience..

The Best Night ever in STL - share your experience.. right here

3:30 A.M…on a Sunday -> “What the hell!” I shout as I feel a sharp pain piercing my right cheek. I reach up and feel my face, only to find that I am bleeding. Just like that I snap out of my drunken haze, the first time in hours that I’ve had any sense of my surroundings. Like “The Situation” putting water in his eyes and realizing that his Jersey Shore hot tub is filled with hyenas, hippos and all sorts of other jungle creachers, I now find myself in a forced state of sobriety…and I don’t like what I see.

Because all I see is corn. There is corn everywhere, including a husk stuck in the gaping wound on my face. Having a drunken moment of revelation, while being trapped and surrounded by corn, is not exactly my idea of a good time. In fact it sounds a lot like the plot for M. Night Shyamalan’s next blockbuster film failure. Then, just as I am about to have some sort of emotional breakdown like an intoxicated teenage girl, I hear some rustling in the field ahead of me. I am not alone.

As I walk towards the noise, I find my friend Tyler standing a mere few feet in front of me. The white linen suit he was wearing is now covered with corn kernels and animal feces. He is ripping pieces of corn right out of the husks and attempting to eat them. Guess he’s got a bad case of the drunk munchies and thought fresh vegetables would feed his craving.

“Where the hell are we?” I try to ask Tyler in some sort of slurred fashion. Tyler looks up at me but fails to respond. Maybe he’s too drunk. Maybe he can’t understand me because it sounds like I have a mouth full of mashed potatoes. Or maybe he is just as hammered and clueless as I am, and really has no clue how the hell we ended up in a maize field either. No matter the reason, Tyler refuses to speak, as he instead turns and runs through the field.

I chase after him, only being able to see where he is because the pure whiteness of his suit is glistening off the pitch-black background of the cornfield. After about 10 steps I am winded and collapse onto the ground like I’m Charlie Sheen after a long night of snorting blow and picking up hookers. Crushing several cornhusks on my way, my face lands flush in a pile of mud and cow shit. This is my nightmare, dying alone suffocating in an enormous mound of manure. I wish I could say this wasn’t how I thought my life would end, but in a lot of ways it’s exactly how I drew it up.

As I except my fate and prepare to go towards the light, I look and see Tyler standing over me. I muster all my strength to rise to my feet and somehow put together a coherent statement, asking Tyler “Where the hell are you going?” He just stands there quiet for several seconds, staring directly in my poop-smeared face, before responding with one word. “Home,” says Tyler before turning and continuing his trek forward.

And then it hits me. I look back across the field and see neon lights dancing through the night sky. I suddenly notice that the air is filled with promiscuity and sexually transmitted diseases. I reach for my wallet, which only contains four-dollar bills and a condom. Add it all up and I know exactly where I am. Those are strip clubs.

I turn and look ahead, and I can see a gigantic bridge sitting right before my eyes. That’s the Mississippi River, and I’m on the Eastern side of it. I’m in Illinois. I live in Missouri. And I’m stuck walking through a cornfield with an idiot dressed up like Don Johnson from Miami Vice. And, just as I start to wonder how this happened, it all comes flooding back to me. Pieces of my night flash before my eyes in some form of drunken recall. My black out is over, and my night becomes clear. And it’s far from over at this point.

I can't wait until the next entry. This story sounds funny as hell.