The term "drunken mayhem" gets thrown around a lot, but this past weekend's trip to Maine managed to earn the prize. In all, it was a good time, flying up to celebrate the wedding of my friends Allie and Jake and spend some quality time with Don Marco and Chole who I hadn't seen in over a year. This was also Shan's first trip to the state since college.
We started with a nice outdoor lunch--I should point out that the entire weekend was perfect weather, in true Maine summery form--followed by rooftop drinks with my pals, at which point we learn that my friends Chris and Brendan--whom I'd known in Maine but were now living in NYC--were up visiting and wanted to hang out at one of the dockside bars. On we went, catching up with them and some other friends before heading back out to the country for some grilling and beer-ing. A relatively healthy evening.
Saturday, the day of the wedding itself, someone gets the idea to start drinking beer at noon because he hadn't had Maine microbrews in over a year and was in withdrawal. This was before we left the house. From there, we pre-gamed with more of our friends (one of whom was wearing a kilt in case the English invaded) at a nice microbrewery in Saco, then it was on to the ceremony. The ceremony was very nice--held outside by a pond on Jake's fambly's property--and then the reception began.
Six kegs of high quality beer and several additional cases later, I decided that playing volleyball would be a good idea in my slacks and loafers. It went about as well as I expected, and my knee is still sore. Shan of course is pocket-sized and was somehow convinced to take shots of "floor tequila"--not sure what that really means, but okay--and suffered immensely as a result! Somehow in the middle of this and a very nice fireworks display, I managed to catch up with a number of old friends and express my congratulations to the couple and their families, but was feeling the effects of the fine beer by nightfall and was ready to hit the sack.
As it turns out, the "sack" was the floor of the condo tent, and the way everyone was spread out I was sleeping in a crouched position with only half my body covered in blanket. Did I mention that Maine gets very cold in the evenings, even in July? Because it does! This resulted in about four minutes of sleep the whole evening, even an ill-fated attempt to sleep in the backseat of Mark and Chole's car which I only discovered in the morning light had the window slightly open. Rats! So by morning, I am feeling far worse than normal. Eek!
On the drive back, my stomach decided to punish me for my sins, and we pulled over to a vacant stretch on Route 1 where I refunded my meal from the previous night. Delicious lobster, clams, corn--yep, it was much tastier going down than coming up. But this did help my stomach somewhat.
We took a well advised mid-day nap before heading to Freeport for a nice relaxing dinner and iced creams before heading back. While my drinking and sleep plans were ill-advised, it was a great trip and a good touch of nostalgia. Good times!
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