The 3 Days, God Hates

You read the title right. The three infamous days only know by a choice select few as the three days that the God whom most on this planet and fellow drunkards around the planet scream his name when getting a backlash of too high amount of booze gets. The three days in question happen every year during Martin Luther King weekend, in which a group of people in Central Ohio descends on a hotel. Over the years, there have been as many as three separate venues, albeit because the convention either grows, or just grows tire of the last hotel and convention center, and they run a convention. Not just a Convention where business men fly in and attend programming panels during the day, then scurry about in the lounge trying to find lonely divorces at night. But a convention where there are no serious panels during the day, just panels on "fun things" like "financial redistribution" (Poker) and "How to properly discipline a casual and or formal live in servant" (B.D.S.M.) And of course all this is linked not by one but two convention hospitality suites. The first one serves Chips, dips, vegetables and so forth. You know finger food. But the second suite, oh how grand! Because there booze is served, from Friday till early Sunday morning. And oh yeah, did I forget to mention it is an open bar? What prey tell could be this little golden gift to fellow drunkards? Why is not just a Con! (Once you have gone to one convention you stop referring to them as conventions and more as Cons for short.) Nevertheless, my fellow followers of Bacchus, this be DeCONpression!

At current time of writing this, there have only been six DeCONpressions to take place soon to be a seventh. It all begins on Friday. As usual I show up, check into the hotel, and grab my room keys, go up to the room and if it is before 4 p.m. just chill out anyway I can. (I recommend having a disco nap! Trust me; this may very well come in handy. ) Usually the first thing I do is unpack 2 cases of beer, two 5ths of Vodka, one 5^th of Gin and two 5ths of Rum. Next, unpack the backups that consist of Sugar free Rockstar Energy Drinks, 12 bottles of 5-hour energy shots, and 4 large bottles of Gatorade. I have found that I like to drink, so the best thing to do is be prepared at the time of waking up to not get rid of a hangover, but make sure it dealt with. Ok, so I go down to where the registration for the Con is, after checking in, getting my convention badge which gives me any and all privileges to any and all convention activities, but then I begin to stand in the hallway and read some of the literature they gave me in the "goody bag". I see the schedule and peruse it over, and see some interesting events that I will no doubt endeavor to make. At which point I notice, not only do I have a few pieces of paper that reflect what pre-published happenings are taking place over this weekend, but there are two small packages about the size of a book of matches at the bottom of the bag, on is a chocolate flavored condom, and a banana flavored dental dam. I stop and wonder what exactly I have gotten myself into, because I was just here to drink. Nothing insane, Just drink, I just wanted to drink. I had friends meeting me here at this thing; we all had one simple intention, DRINK! I mean don't get me wrong, a condom, a dental damn (which I was informed that this was for females), someone was looking out for me to have a much better time than I had figured. However, it was not just me, I looked up in time to see fellow attendees grab their bags and then head over to a large clear bowl filled with condoms and dental dams. I made nervous comment to one of the staff, "Wow, I take it things surely do happen around here?" Where upon she replied, "Well when you take this many people, and that much booze, things are bound to piss off some right winged Christian fundamentalist somewhere." Now, being the person who I am, obviously the only word that really stuck out in my mind was the word, booze.

I spoke up again at her and said, "I know from what I have been told, that this convention is notorious for having some good drinking going on." She looked at me slightly puzzled but with a hint of that twisted smile on her face that only a drunkard looks for out of a broad who likes to drink. She stands up from her desk, asks someone to take over for her at the registration table and says "I think you need to see something." I said "sure" and she began to walk out the door and down the hallway, telling me to follow her as she did so. We began to walk to the edge of the convention space that I knew of, and walked through the lobby. We were headed to the elevators and rooms on the other wing of the hotel campus when I began to wonder, what exactly was going on. I mean sure, I thought she was pretty good looking, blond hair, blue eyes, a little bit thick but not in that "I better be drunk for this one" sort of way, more in a curvy way. At that point we passed a swimming pool with hot tub. Bettie Page was sitting in that hot tub. Not the real Bettie Page, but a gal who looked close enough. She was dangling her legs into the hot tub and holding a martini glass, sipping on it. Once again, my kind of gal. Then I noticed, the pool area was filled once I got past the daydream of sipping martinis with Bettie in the hot tub. It was a virtual Rock-a-billy, gothic and geek culture filled void. I stopped for one second while my tour guide was walking, taking it all in. I knew I would have to make sure I had come back here at one point. But even though I wanted to stay and take in the sites to see, there was this tour guide taking me away. Oh well, I will be back swimsuit models, I know I will. I was busy following this curvy blond once again, down the corridor and we turned left, as we did a large gentleman wearing a kilt was walking towards us carrying a large pitcher, filled with ice, what looked like 10 slices of lemons and 2 slices of lime. "Hey Kat! Wanna try my new batch?" He asked. She reached over and got the pitcher from him, took a sip and asked "Bombay Sapphire?" Taking back the pitcher, the kilted guy nodded a yes, and then looked at me and handed me the pitcher in a gesture I should have some. Now I do not know this guy from Adam and here he is offering me a dribble of his pitcher. I held it to my lips and began to sip, it filled my mouth with that hint of lightly dried juniper berry that sapphire is notorious for, crisp and delicious that taste is. Then it hit me, the burn was far, far stronger then what Gin and Tonic over ice should have. Not like, there was no tonic. Nevertheless, somehow the gin was stronger. I handed the pitcher back to him. "That's got a bit more bite then average" saying aloud, thinking It was just my throat was just reacting because I haven't had a drink in past two days, because I was told there was some "drinking to go on here, and I should rest up!" However, the Kilted guy, just smiled and said, "Well it should, its two parts Gin and one part Everclear."

My guide giggled and said "Come on" I mean look I don't mind Everclear, in fact some of my best drinking memories, err well non-memories are because of that magic elixir, you know the first time you tried Everclear right? Yep that nice double burn that goes down you esophagus makes your nostrils flair, shoots down to your stomach and somehow makes your nut sack shrink. Almost like your stomach is saying "hey you guys down there, you gotta feel this, let me have you reeled in so you can see what this dumb bastard just swallowed." However what I was in store for I had no idea. We made our way down to this room with a giant white sign in front that had an arrow pointing to the left, which said hospitality suite #1, and an arrow pointing right that said hospitality suite #2. My guide said, "You go to the left, and you will get good food. You go to the right, and you might wanna call a doctor" I then asked, "A doctor?" she shot me the most wicked grin, and said "well wherever you can get a new liver!" at that point I heard some familiar voices coming out of the "Liver damage" room, so I went right. What I saw was the holiest mountain of my dreams, not just some friends apparently having a good time; it was A large bar, stocked with more booze then a bar you would even see down at your neighborhood bar. Cases and cases of sweet elixirs from Turkey to Pyrat Rum, they had it. There was a large sign on the bar that said "Battle Bar" on it, and a flag that looked like it was out of a Star Trek convention on it with the word BARFLEET written on it. I just thought I would start out light. So, after I saw my friends, I walked up to the bar and I asked them what they had. The guy said, "when it comes to beer, we got no brands, we have people who make our brews. You can have anything from pale ale to Bock. Unless you want our down end beers that we buy." I am sure I looked puzzled when I repeated "down end?" "Yep down end beer we buy is Heineken and P.B.R." Only because I know basics, I chose the PBR, but it wasn't long till that was a chaser, because one of my friends, who already looked like he had gotten his mind to a better place than me earlier came up and said "Let's do a shot!" It was early, but being the drunkard I normally am, figured why not? I have my room and my gear stowed in it so in a proud voice I proclaimed, "Of course we are going to do a shot, after all this booze isn't going to drink itself." "He looks over at the bartender and says, "Hey buddy can I get a round of those shots you made earlier?" The barkeep said "Liquid Christ? Sure!"

Now, I cannot be too sure what exactly went into it, I saw about 4 bottles go into the mixer, one had some f**king Eastern European language on it. I asked my buddy what that was, he just said "they call it polish rocket fuel". Next thing I remember was the shots were being poured out into large tumbler glasses. These drinks were an easy 3 fingers. I got mine, and we saluted each other. I tipped it into my mouth, the taste felt like it had cause my tongue to hemorrhage with disbelief. I have done many a large shot, but never in my life have I ever done a shot that burned that bad. It went down and filled my body with the shakes. I finished it, chased it immediately with PBR. "What was that shot again?" I asked. "Liquid Christ!" I was told in a repeated basis, first from the sober mouth of the bartender and followed by different stages of drunkenness by my fellow drunkards. A guy who had been standing by the end of the bar asked me "How did it taste?" I just said "Like my mouth was a demons pussy and it just got violated by a holy water douche." The guy who asked me smiled looked over at the Barkeeper and said" I haven't heard that one before. He introduced himself as Commodore Erikson of Barfleet. Whereupon I asked him what exactly Barfleet was? And he told me it is a group of people of people who frequent sci-fi, fantasy, and gaming conventions to just do one thing, "throw parties for the people, sometimes just the VIPs" he went on to tell me in those few short minutes that DeConpression was one of their few events in which they not only throw a party, but actually run the hospitality services. He told me to enjoy myself and that he would see me around the convention, and if I had any problems to seek out a fleet member for assistance.

I walked back to my table now nursing my beer and that's when it hit me. Whenever I drink, I like to have the "world is a better place" button. You know when you cross the threshold of sobriety into a buzz, sometimes its slow, sometimes it can be faster. But no matter what, there's that nice cross over that takes place. As I was walking back to my table to my friends, it hit. Man - o - man, was it a crossover. Normally I handle the cross over pretty good, but there was no way around it, after just five minutes of buzz time, I was slurring my speech and I knew it. Here it was Friday at about 7 pm and I was already working on the buzz? At that moment, the Bettie Page look alike walked into the barroom. She had gotten out of her bathing suit and was wearing a cocktail dress. Somehow I made her notice me, and to this point I don't know what I did, but she smiled at me and I smiled back, But my friends had bigger plans for me. Because in a side room attached to the Bar room was a slightly smaller room and the "show" was going to begin. For the next 3 hours I watched scantily clad women proceed to whip the s**t out of others, some men some women, they didn't care they were dressed in form fitting leather and they were going to take any s**t from no one.

After watching what I call "smack and whack parade of stars" for that time, I knew my drinking was finally catching up a bit. So, I snuck up to my room and got one of the 5 hour energy shots, chugged a Rockstar, because I know the one thing that the people who write things for Hollywood don't know; just because you give caffeine to a drunk doesn't mean they sober up, you just get an awake drunk. I got a call from one of my friends asking me where I had popped off too, I told him I had to use the toilet and he told me to hurry up and get back there. So, I grabbed another 5 hour energy, shoved it into my pocket and proceeded downstairs for round two. The Rockstar and energy shot were finally taking their duty seriously and was making me feel like I could do or drink anything, and f**k me if they didn't have a job cut out for them. I got back down stairs and the "Fleet" was handing out promotions to their crew in the bar room. It consisted of people being named off of a list, merits declared and then them doing a shot of what I later found out to be a "Casual Torpedo" so named because it is not just a drink, but it is a weapon.

The rest of the night, I spent drinking and watching people dance the rest of the night, at 2 am the hospitality suite closed due to state law about serving after 2am. Then me and my friends were leaving the con suite, headed over to the food part of the con suite. I drunkenly ate my food, which without trouble was "drunken-riffic delicious" The good food when you are drunk, you know fried, grease with an extra helping of bread and grease. In addition, even though I was considering that my room and bed was the obvious choice. That's when what can only be described as a female pirate, wearing a hot pink plaid mini skirt and a wicked smile, entered the room, and started to hand out flyers to everyone, it was a room party list. I thought my night was over, wrong again Kurt, wrong again, get ready for round 2, or was this round 3? It didn't matter because we began to peruse the room parties. The rest of the night was filled with rooms of people drinking more and more booze. People laughing and giggling and of course, as I found out the reason why condoms are given out, people were making out. I later found out people operate at these things with the Vegas rule of "what happens at the Con, stays at the Con." Hell one room I walked into, the Bed was shoved into the middle of the room. The side furniture was piled in one corner and filling the bed was a combination of fully clothed, half naked and I know I saw two fully naked in the pile, making out, while the rest of the party attendees were standing around talking and drinking as if this was absolutely normal as orgasmic sounds were filling the air. Ironically, I lost two of my friends in that room. My theory was simple, if I had only travelled that far, there had to be more around the corner. So I explored, saw more and more of the Con, loosing friends to conversations to women here and there. As I was in one party talking to someone about the benefits of Alcohol, I noticed blue coming in through the window. I looked at my watch. It was 7:12 am. I excused myself and went back to my room. If I were here to get laid, then I would have prepared for that. I was here for drinking. In addition, I had to get some sleep if it was going to happen the second night.

So flash forward till 5 p.m. I wake up, order breakfast from the hotel of a burger, fries and eating it while sipping my Gatorade. I knew I was going to have to step up my game a bit today. So before I left the room I chugged two of the five hour energy, and a Rockstar. I put two bottles of the energy shots in my pocket and in the immortal words of Optimus Prime, "transformed and rolled out!" I made my way around to see some of the daily programming, But a phone call from a friend said it was time to meet at the bar. Now my friends and I, always had a game we played ever since they started putting cameras on cel-phones years ago, and that is, if you "hook up" with a chick for a one night or whatever, you get a shot of them with the camera phone and snap a few pics. It sounds a bit crass, childish enough that Tucker Max would be happy. Over the course of the day while I was asleep, my phone collected these pictures, which I forgot about until I was viewing them making my way to the bar. Ironically seeing these lovely ladies passed out and then realizing that I had passed most of them walking around this day was like a hidden "walk of shame" that they didn't know they were a part of. I walked into the bar, commenting to my friends that they had futures as photographers, and I got some smiles and laughs. Nevertheless, I was not here to make people smile, there was still a mountain of booze and I was game for putting a dent in it. I started out small, Bloody Mary. Just a small amount of booze to get the juices flowing and of course vegetable matter to make it work as a "health drink" I walked up to the bar and was grabbing my second when low and behold, I was standing right behind Bettie Page. She had gotten her drink, smiled and said, "So, you have a good time yesterday?" I said, "Yeah, this is pretty new to me, the convention part, but so far so good." she just smiled and replied "You haven't seen anything yet there sugar." A friend had called out to me to grab him a drink, by the time I looked back to her, she had walked away to discard herself into the shadows and people who fill them. I got the drinks, and went back.

This night was pretty much the same, drinking large amounts of booze, people dancing, smack and whack, a few more dressed up gals a few more hard drinks. 2am the bar closed. We went over to the other con suite for food and then the room party list, and we made our way up to the room parties and it was about the second room party I traveled, I got a tap on my shoulder. Bettie Page was standing wearing a sailor girls outfit from the 1940's hat tilted to the side, short skirt and boobs were just sticking out, like two loafs of fresh back vixen, and those legs, begging to be licked for an hour or two. "Hey I hope your having a good time?" she asked. I just said "I am, very much so." She's smiled and informed me that this was her room, and her room party and I was free to stay, but there was a problem, in addition, to make matters worse she was almost out of liquor. Realizing that had some bottles still unpacked in my room I just said very much in a way that hopefully I would be her shining knight in amaretto, "you know if its booze you need, I can get you booze." Then she informed me that her roommate was going to be returning by 3 am and chances are going to be very tired because she had been drinking and partying since 2 pm that day. So it was stuck to me, how was I going to be this gals excuse to have cheap meaningless sex for the night if I didn't impress her? I told her "Well given light that this convention is filled with booze hounds, I am sure that we can make arrangements at 3am through another room to continue your party at that time." Now comes the reality, call it need or desire to impress Miss Page. Call it the fetish I have for women who look like Miss Page. or call it the pretty much countless ounces of booze coursing through my veins at that very moment I actually said "Don't be bothered with your roommate, I got a room, the booze and no damned roommate." Either she was that happy with the thought, or just actually liked me, that dame became my arm immediately. After some time, I looked at my watch, it was 2:55 I asked miss page (who said her real name was actually Bettie with an "IE" at the end), if we should close this puppy and begin to let people know about my room. She winked very amused, and gave me the go ahead to do that. I got people to grab their haze of their heads for just a few minutes and heard about the new room party. I told them all the s**t would start at 3:30. Therefore, they left, Bettie and I kissed and in a very typical Hollywood fashion, the roommate knocked just as the kissing was making the room hotter and hotter.

So we let the roommate in, a gay guy by the name of Alan. Alan's plans for the evening apparently turned upwards, because Alan was dragging along some guy to "tuck him in". Alan was very happy with the prospect Bettie and I were leaving. So we grabbed what gear she had, such as cups and the large red cooler of ice and mixers, and made headway down to my room. By the time we got there, I already had two of my friends there, and they were eye-balling Bettie. They know me as the type of drunkard who doesn't really depend on getting laid, it just happens and when it does happen, I kind of look at it as the Olive in the martini, only a fool leaves it in the glass and doesn't take it. Next, we got in and got ready, and next thing you know, people crushed through the door. By 6 am only a few were left in the room, and then eventually it was Me, Bettie and what last cans of PBR and some Pyrate rum I had managed to stash away from sight of the party goers. I had been pacing myself all night, but now it was time to have fun. The one biggest thing I had found out about Pyrate rum, was that somehow I do lose any and all memory. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one of these people that use blacking out as an excuse, but there is just something about Pyrat rum let alone most rums, which make me blank out. I forget s**t. So I looked over towards the bed and my celphone was there. I knew that no matter what was going to happen I would get pictures, to play in the childish game of my friends' conquest. So that was it, we drank, we kissed, we drank, we talked, we drank, and that's pretty much about the best I can recall.

The next afternoon I wake up, in an empty bed. I immediately get up, squirt the new found maple syrup doubling as urine out of me, crack open a Gatorade and chug. I know I am dehydrated, because I swear it looked as if my urine actually steamed and bubble once it hit toilet. So I chugged. Next thing you know I noticed a piece of paper with a scribble on it. "Had a great time, with a great guy. If you are ever near Dayton, give me a call. XOXO, Bettie." Hell yeah! And yes there was a number. But I had to ask myself, What the f**k happened? Did we? Was it fun? She left me a note like that and if the number was real, she had to be serious, and it was one of those nights / early mornings. Therefore, I looked for my phone, and found it at the base of the bed on the floor. . It fizzled out, and was soaking wet, she left her cooler in my room. And it had one of those pull plugs on it, you know the type they have to drain the water, well some schmooze, un-plugged it, leaked out and my phone and it was fried. Oh well. Well, that was that , I wouldn't know unless I had remembered to send them out. So first things first, I called my cel-phone shop, made arrangements to pick up a new one on the drive back home. While I was doing so, I was told I had "picture saver" on my account. I had no idea what the hell that was. But I was told that whenever I take a photo it auto sends to my online account through the cel-phone provider and that all I had to do was log in.... I got the web address, and logged in. After viewing the pictures, I sat there for some time. I looked over and realized I had sent these pictures to every one of my friends. I just smoked a cigarette and packed up my room. I called the porter, got may bags taken down to the lobby to check out. I saw people I had seen my friends, and everyone I saw was giving me that look like I was on the "walk of shame." Because, when I saw the pictures I knew. I first saw one of those "MySpace" pictures with her; I held the camera up and all that, and another one of us kissing. Then, the pictures got more and more interesting, she was in more and more of a state of undress from her "sailor girl outfit" Lovely tattoos, pierced nipples. I mean looking at it, I felt myself wanting her even more again, and then there it was a shot of her pulling down her skirt, and the next was her standing up, completely in the buff, and well, turns out she was built with the same parts as myself. In addition, the problem, is that was the last picture. So what happened? I can only assume by the not that was left for me, it proved it. Though this time was fun, it is just three days that God hates. However, the Devil made sure I registered for the following year.