A quick refresher of what has happened with Chuck to this point. All the events detailed in these posts occurred during a long weekend in San Francisco where Chuck took part in the Nike Women's Marathon.
After flying for the first time in his short life he visited Alcatraz, met new friends, and did the marathon. The stories written below begin with the post-marathon Victory Party and end in a not-so-pretty fashion. Be warned, what follows is not for the weak of heart, or stomach for that matter.
After the marathon the team headed over to the convention center for the Victory Party. Everyone was there to celebrate the fact that they had just finished either the half or full marathon and most of us had a couple barley pops and relaxed. Well, most of us except for Chuck, that is.
Chuck hadn't done a lot of drinking prior to this evening and let's just say his tiny frame can't absorb the alcohol the way an ostrich or flamingo can. We ALL know how flamingos love to drink those fancy umbrella drinks. Anyway, it started out innocently enough with a beer...
... but he succumbed to peer pressure and moved to shots, which quickly did him in.
By the time Chuck was doing the shots we had all moved from the convention center to a small Irish pub. Chuck had lost all sense of reason at this point and became hysterical at the site of one of the bar's Halloween decorations. As you can see below he really was quite frightened...
Chuck looked at me and pleaded for me to protect him. His speech was very slurred and he was looking quite droopy, and he had a hard time staying on his feet. It began to seem quite obvious that Chuck was going to fade fast.
But somehow Chuck found his second wind. Unfortunately, the evidence below shows how this wasn't such a good thing. Chuck began telling stories of how he raised the money to buy his plane ticket out to San Francisco. None of us could believe what we were witnessing as Chuck demonstrated his many "dance" moves that he used at the Chicken Ranch where he worked. Even though watching him made us a bit uneasy he did earn some extra money to buy another round of drinks...
The last round was the one that did poor Chuck in. It wasn't long and he was in the bathroom praying to the porcelain god, swearing he'd never touch another drop of alcohol in his life.
Chuck quickly disappeared, but on our way back to the hotel we found him passed out.
It was a rough night for Chuck, and the next day he wasn't doing so well on the flight back to Minnesota. We told him the stories from the night before, and he tried to hide his beak under his wing, but eventually he admitted that he had a good time.
We had a lot of fun that night with Chuck, and there have been some good times since then as well - times that will be making appearances in future posts. But until then we hope you enjoy reading Chuck's adventures in San Fran. Chuck sure has a lot of pluck.
1 comment:
We love you chuck! Can't wait to see where you land next. Wanna meet at Buffalo Wild Wings for some more barley pops?
Post a Comment