Monday, February 2, 2009

Doha and Toronto are Different. Part Three: Being Drunk

It’s strange moving to a new country where the only people you know are your fiance and his parents. I've substituted parties with my super hot, fun friends for family dinners and reasonable bedtimes.

Don't get me wrong, Doha is wicked. But like any ex-pat in a middle eastern country, there are things I took for granted at home that I miss. Par example, I really miss stumbling home obliterated and not feeling vulnerable. That has nothing to do with the invincible feeling you get when you're drunk, it's more a testament to the safe-ish streets of Toronto. Looking back, I probably should have been more cautious about getting home while drunk, but I read an article once about how NOT to get raped and followed the tips religiously. It has worked for me so far.

Here's the best (most recent) example of said foolish behaviour:

A few weeks before I left Toronto, I was at a traditional Christmas kegger. You know the kind, there’s a baked ham and a lot of kegstands. After getting awesomely drunk there, I had to somehow make it to my friend Mary’s birthday party. Mary is one my best friends and also happens to be extremely bossy, so I HAD to go.

I said goodbye to my friends and went outside to find a cab. Holy smokes was it snowy. Obviously there were no cabs in sight.

Besides being really, really drunk, I was in a teeny dress and sky-high heels in the middle of a snowbank. Girls are soooo smart. I was gazing sadly at my wet shoes when I heard, “looks like you could use a ride.”

I looked up to see a massive snowplow beside me. It was a city of Toronto plow, meaning it was enormous. It had no doors and a driver whose appearance was…suspect. It was a sketchy situation, but I had a party to get to! I hopped in, held on to the “safety bar,” lit up a smoke and headed on our way.
My driver’s name was Miguel. He was a lovely man. We chatted about the state of the economy, the joys of being a union man, his kids and my legs. After declaring him my Christmas Angel several times, Miguel dropped me outside the party. It was a grand entrance, because I looked so very cool.

So Toronto is a great playground, but Doha has its perks. On Thursday, DKM and I went to a black tie event celebrating Robbie Burns, the Scottish poet and Don Juan. We had a sloppy night with Doha's Scottish community and actually made some new friends.

Here they are:
Yea so they’re old enough to be our parents, but they know how to party! Shut up shut up shut up. DKM developed a huge crush on the blonde milf lady. Please note how he ever-so-slightly leans towards her-- stealth.

Some of my friends back home were concerned I wouldn't have a social circle in Doha. This photo is here to ease their worries.

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