This is from BAREFOOTIN: you original story, and a fantastic story:
In my early 20's I was living in Illinois and met a bartender (Chad) who
was originally from Baltimore, MD. He used to always tell tales of how
he used to bar tend at this club in Inner Harbor, Baltimore, and how he
won best bartender year after year blah blah blah. Supposedly this club
was the shit...it's where all of the pro athletes, the who's who, etc.
would go to party and he was fuckin king shit at the place. Partied with
this person and that person blah blah blah. Dude was an awesome
bartender and we became pretty good friends over the course of my
alcoholism, but I kind of always chalked his stories up as exaggerated
semi-bullshit. Hey, whatever, doesn't really hurt me any...or so I
thought.
Fast forward a year or two and I'm living in Philly. My roommate
and I decide to head down to Inner Harbor to gorge ourselves on fresh
sea food and then go get wrecked at some of the bars/clubs near the
harbor. After hearing all of Chad's stories, we obviously decide to go
check out the bar I'd heard so much about. We get there and the place is
definitely dope. No doubt that it's a fucking hot spot. Whether or not
he was king shit, I figured I'd never know....
We decided that the place was definitely worth our time and money,
so we go to the bar to order drinks. Bartender cards us, sees my
Illinois ID, and says, "Oh you're from Chicago? (If you live in IL,
you're automatically from Chicago as far as anyone on the east coast is
concerned.) Do you know Chad who used to work here?" Now I'm immediately
blown the fuck away. Never in a million years did I expect that to
happen. I proceed to tell him, "Yeah, Chad's my fuckin' boy from back
home. He's the reason we came to check this place out." Bartender tells
me, "That's awesome. How's he doing? Blah blah blah. Whatever you guys
want is on the house tonight."
Game on. This is at the peak of my alcoholism and if drinking were a
sport, I'd be the god damn MVP. I don't know how much we drank, but I
guarantee it was several hundred dollars worth of red bull vodkas and
jager bombs. After four hours of non-stopped abuse of my liver not only
are we fucking destroyed, but we're also all cracked out on red bull.
Unfortunately, it's closing time for the bars.
Considering we're all cracked out on rbv, going back to the hotel
sounded like a pretty lame idea. Time to call Chad. Apparently he wasn't
just bullshittin me this whole time, so maybe he knows what's up with
the after hours parties. Call him up and he gives us the name of a spot
to go check out. We catch a cab and tell him where we want to go. The
only problem is the fucking cabbie can't find the place. He pulls over
to ask a hooker for directions. Next thing I know, she's hopping in the
front seat of the cab as the cabbie tells us that she's going to show us
where it's at. Cool. Whatever. Just get us to the fucking party.
We drive around for a little bit, but still no luck. This bitch
starts talking about "Y'all owe me some money. Y'all gonna hafta pay
me." WOAH. HOLD THE FUCKING PHONES. I'm not paying you shit. He's
(cabbie) the one who told you to get in, and then I proceeded to tell
her what I thought of her choices in life and what she was doing for a
living standing on a corner. Apparently the truth hurts...the both of
us. I'm sitting behind the driver and she's in the passenger seat. Next
thing i know, the bitch turns around and shanks me in my right
brow/eyelid.
The cabbie slams on his breaks and she hops out of the car. My 6 ft
3, 265 pound roommate hops out of the car to grab the whore. She starts
yelling, "Help they rapin me" to a group of brothas on the corner. My
roommate can obviously see how this is going to turn out so he hops back
in the cab. Cabbie is telling us to get out so my buddy grabs him by
the neck and tells him to fucking drive....take us to the hospital. I
tell him that I'm fine and let's just go back to the hotel. He looks at
me and says, "Dude, I can see your eyeball through your eyelid. We're
going to the fucking hospital." Ok. Fine.
12 hours later and I'm all stitched up at the University
hospital....vision unaffected. And that's how I got stabbed in the eye
by a hooker.
