I’ve never really been a fan of drinking games.
I could say that it’s because I don’t like getting too drunk, too fast, or that I don’t like turning drinking into a punishment—due to losing a game—rather than a leisurely activity. I could say both of those things, they are both true, but I think the biggest factor contributing to my nonparticipation is the plain and simple fact that I Just. Hate. Losing. And like most things aspects of life, there is always going to be someone who is better than you. In drinking games, there is always someone better than me. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone worse than me.
I can hold my own for about 3 turns. I’ll make a few shots, sway back and forth behind your cups to playfully distract you. I make you believe that I might be a fun opponent. Then I remember that people can bounce it in, and I lose it.
You would think that a successful bounce toss resulted in the death of a family member the way my hands start shaking. And when a bounce toss does come, I swing at the ball as if my arm can instantaneously morph into a tennis racket. Things spill, it’s not pretty, and it’s usually about the time people regret playing me.
Again, anxiety gets the best of me here. If you’ve never played Kings Cup, here’s a very brief explanation: It’s a drinking game that uses a deck cards, each card means something different.
One particular card allows whoever pulls it to pick a category. Real life example: sounds that animals make. Once the puller of this card chooses a category, the adjacent player must contribute something (I.e. “meow”) that is fitting to that category. This continues around the circle of players until someone messes up or can’t think of anything and as you can probably guess, the person who makes a mistake has to drink. As stated before, “sounds that animals make” is a real life example, one which I faced in a bout with Kings Cup in my best friend’s dorm room. I got so nervous when it category came to me that I couldn’t remember a single animal that currently inhabited the earth. I ended up having to drink, only to have someone “moo” at me mid sip, while pointing to the cup—covered in cow spots—that I’d been so anxiously clutching.
In short, it is duct taping two 40 oz. bottles of beer to your hands and finishing them before being allowed to take them off. At first, it was merely a myth in my life. Something I thought was a joke. Something that sounded far too stupid to attempt. Something I had only seen on an episode of How I Met Your Mother.
That was until one weekend at my family’s cabin, when it almost became real.
A while back my three best friends and I had learned the term “classy-smashed” from a website called Urban Dictionary—a.k.a the home to the definitions of slang terms and innuendos that I’m too afraid to ask what they mean.
Classy smashed– the type of intoxication that occurs whenever wine or champagne is consumed.
“HILARIOUS!” “AWESOME!” “WE GOTTA DO IT!” –Exclamations made upon learning this term.
We decided the following:
1) Each girl brings a bottle of wine/champagne of her choice to the cabin.
2) We get classy-smashed.
Months of planning.
Once at the cabin, we lined up the bottles side by side on the counter. Each one a different color, each one a different adventure.
Natallee’s contribution was the first to be opened. It was clear…and icky.
Teeny’s bottle was next. It was red….and icky.
At this point we thought, maybe this wasn’t meant to be. Or maybe (obviously) we should have figured out if we liked wine before this….
By some miracle however, we finished both bottles of ick and found ourselves at classy smashed station.
How we knew we arrived at classy smashed station: I was laying on the ground singing a Beyoncé song at the top of my lungs, Geri was not wearing pants, and Natallee and Teeny were having a dance off to no music.
We spent the remainder of our Friday evening watching the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics, calling “dibs” on the attractive individuals from every country, and chanting “USA” in unison throughout our country’s entrance.
The next evening, after dinner, Oreos, snicker doodles, and 2 glasses of Geri’s wine—which was delicious—we decided that we wanted to give Edward Fortyhands a go…with a few adjustments.
Adjustments: we only had 12 oz. bottles of beer, and electrical tape.
So we played Edward Twelvehands.
Some tips for future players:
1) Don’t already be full of food. Beer fills you up and it starts to feel like you’re binge eating.
2) Pee more than once before you play. If you don’t pee before this game, you will have to pee right after you start, if you have to pee right after you start, you will be stuck trying to drink and contain your bladder at the same time, if you try to drink and control your bladder at the same time, bad things can happen.
3) Do not tape the beers to your hands immediately after removing them from the fridge. You’ll spend a lot of time trying to remember what it felt like to move your pinky, and when you try to stop thinking about it, the only thing left to think about is how bad you have to pee.
4) Put on a movie, or music, have some activities planned whilst you play or else you just end up sitting around looking at each other, hoping the game ends soon**.
(**This may not be an issue if you drink the forties.)
Now, what happened next is something that everyone should try, especially whilst classy smashed. Actually, I dare you to NOT to try this.
A few weeks before our trip to the cabin, my sister came up with a fantastic idea. We would go to Education Station and buy 4 Kindergarten level activity books. We would then reach an acceptable level of classy smashed before we would race to finish these activity books.
Let me tell you, it is extremely difficult to draw 5 hexagons when you forget what a hexagon is. (Is it a shape? Does it have wings?)
And since when do Kindergartners have to do word problems?!
I lost by the way.
This is why I don’t play drinking games.