White Russian nights give way to blacked out memories | VailDaily.com

White Russian nights give way to blacked out memories

Ashley Hall

In my opinion, the difference between a whiteout and a blackout in the world of drinking lies in the difference between a confused, fuzzy happy memory to a regretful feeling of not remembering what you did the night before.

My regular Wednesday routine, consisting of skiing, napping and white-trashing it at the Sandbar can get somewhat old week after week. This past Wednesday, my roommate (a.k.a. One Beer Queer) and I decided not only to change up our usual routine, but also change up our drinks of choice throughout the day and the night. The day started with White Russians (Big Lebowski style) and gossiping on my roommate’s bed about the previous night. One Beer Queer and I were fully dressed to go skiing, down to the boots, hats and neck warmers, yet after the third White Russian our desire for the mountain transformed into a desire to belly-flop out of our windows into the heaps of snow piled outside. Already our “normal” Wednesday skiing date had transformed into a complete “whiteout” with snowball fights, sledding, white-washing each other, and of course, more White Russians.

Since we normally ski on Wednesdays and since we were already in our ski gear, One Beer Queer and I decided that it would probably be in our best interest to do a little apres. However, since we had already decided that this particular Wednesday was going to be wacky-Wednesday, we decided to change our “normal” location of apres-skiing in the Village to test out Mezzaluna in Lionshead. We tried out some of their specialty drinks, such as their Sexalunas, and their Liftside-lunas, followed by their delicious and surprisingly inexpensive apres white pizzas (white mozzarella cheese, that is). To ensure that we left the restaurant in a vertical position and that we did not move from whiteout state to blackout state, my roommate and I made it back home after only one drink (so typical of One Beer Queer).

The night (or late afternoon) was hardly over after Mezzaluna. One Beer Queer suggested that we get Scorpion Bowls at May Palace so we could continue drinking unusual beverages. Four of our other friends accompanied us on the adventure so we ordered four gigantic bowls. Usually the ratio is four people to a bowl, but we like to push our limits, (except for One Beer Queer ,that is). While we were all sucking down the flaming bowl of booze the waitress brought over six orders of white rice and “kindly suggested” that we nibble on the dry white pellets or she would not serve us anymore. I did not understand where the skepticism of our ability to handle our booze came from, except perhaps One Beer Queers’ unfortunate visit to the porcelain bowl after only the first Scorpion Bowl. Apparently the white porcelain bowl did not keep her in her pleasant whiteout state and she moved into blackout mode – a sign for her to go home.

Meanwhile the rest of us decided to further along our whiteout and head to White Trash Wednesdays at the Sandbar. Now White Trash Wednesdays always proves to be a crazy night anyways, but entering the Sandbar already in a complete whiteout guaranteed complete disaster. As you can guess, the only thing that I remember about the rest of the night is waking up the next morning in my fresh white sheets with a big hangover. The rest of White Trash Wednesdays was absorbed by my blackout. VT

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