Come one, come all, pull up a chair and grab yourself a beer, for this is the story of my first stay in the drunk tank.
As some of you may have known I was in Sylvan Lake this weekend to have a bit of a pre-birthday birthday party at my friend's cabin. The day started off as any other with a bit of wake boarding and tubing; the booze started flowing pretty quickly around 4pm. We were throwing a party at the cabin and have about 40 people starting to get pretty crazy. I busted out the maverick and had everyone doing it! Paula (who's cabin we were at) has some cousins that own the cabin beside theirs, I went over there and seriously did shots of a 26 of vanilla stoli until it was gone, which only took about 15 minutes, between only three people. Yikes, I knew then and there that the night was going to get very out of control.
Then after many more drinks at about 11pm, Justin and I decided it would be a good idea to head into town to check out all of the giant trauma tour parties that were going on. After about a 25 minute drunken stumble from the cabin we hit up our first beer garden. This is where things get pretty fuzzy. We hammered an unknown number of shots and blew about 100 bucks in 20 minutes before bumping into one of our buddies from Cowboys who was heading to some official trauma tour party. He had some “special passes” which basically entailed unlimited free booze. After aquiring our passes we were on our way! Now, I only remember bits and pieces of what happened after this, but the next thing I know I’m separated from Justin and stumbling down the street. Next thing I remember is being put into the back of a cop cruiser. Don’t really know why they picked my up but I must have been rather calm because I was the only guy that wasn’t cuffed. I don’t remember the ride to the station but I do remember being processed and then thrown in the cell. They even took the string from my board shorts... like I was gonna hang myself or something!
Let me describe the cell for you, about 12 x 12 feet, white walls, cement floor, no benches, one florescent lamp, one stainless steel toilet, and 13 (yes I kept count) drunken cell mates. Seriously, it was so fucking packed that I had to fight off drunkards to even get a spot to stretch out a little. About 1/2 the people in the cell were just really drunk like me, 1/4 were passed out completely, and 1/4 were just belligerent drunk. This one dude was yelling at the cops through the door saying he was gonna knife their children. That’s when the cops opened the door and sprayed him down with pepper spray and in effect sprayed all the rest of us too due to the small size of the room. Let me tell you that shit is no fun... it fucking hurts!
People seemed to come and go out of the cell every once and a while until what must have been around 2am when our little light went out. I guess it was sleeping time. So I’m like “fuck this” and layed down and tried to sleep... that didn’t last long... one of the passed out guys woke up and started freaking out and yelling and shit. He started smashing his head against the wall in hopes of hurting himself enough to get taken out of the cell. Well that didn’t work... Yay... more pepper spray!
After that it was quiet for most of the rest of the night, of course I couldn’t have gotten more than a few minutes sleep... you’d be amazed how uncomfortable a concrete floor can be... especially when you can’t stretch out at all. The lights came on again... we had no idea what time it was, but it couldn’t have been much more than 5am. I was so bored (and still drunk) that I decided it would be fun to talk in a British accent. Nobody seemed to notice that earlier I was not British, even though we had all taken turns telling our drunken stories. So, I spent like 45 mins making up some total shit story about how I had flown into Calgary the night before from London and had been on a drunken binge for days and ended up in the Sylvan Drunk tank... everyone was amazed at my story. I kept up the act for the rest of the time I was in the tank.
After hours more we all had pretty much no idea what time it was but alas the little hole in the door opened and one of the cops spoke up... he called my name... I was free! Sweet! The door was opened and I was told to stand up and head out. After filling some paper work the opened the door and let me out. After adjusting my eyes to the light of the outside world I realized I had no idea where the fuck I was. I was not about to stand around the station so I just started walking. So long story short after about 2 hours of walking and 2-3 coffees from random stores along the way I finally found my way back to the cabin. It was around noon. I then stumbled in and told everyone my story… but of course no storytelling was done before I cracked myself a cold beer, I was on a mission... it was beer-o-clock, and I needed to get drunk!
So that is the wacky tale of my 10 hours in the drunk tank.
Topic: The Drunk Tank Story (Read 2759 times)