Witz SHOULD NEVER EVER PICK: Red Bull & Vodka

I've only ever drank red bull and vodka twice in my entire life and both times things have gotten to be "a bit much." You see, it's not a sipping drink. It's the kind of drink that in my case, is offered, re-offered, and ultimately made for me, even when I don't think I'm gonna drink it-- but then I do, because "whoomp, there it is."

For those of you who don't know, haven't had it, or can't do the math, the red bull and vodka is one of the more traumatizing drinks out there. The red bull says GO, but the vodka says SLOW. Inevitably, the raging bull god kicks the crap out of the russian with the AK-47 and let's just say you get a little amped up. Also, it tastes like sweet tarts. It's the kind of drink that someone like me, who is already "a bit much" at parties doesn't need. I'm already kickin' jokes left and right when I get a little buzz going (or are stone sober), so I don't need energy to be social and mostly it just converts my one liners into short stories. The best way for me to drink a red bull and vodka would be to dose myself with a little GHB so the whole chemistry evens out. Worst case scenario, I bet I sleep better than I have in a while. Speaking of which, that's the most fun-- you wake up the next morning with your heart dancing to a samba rhythm, and you can tell that the dancing is mostly elbows and finger snaps. It's like you are alternately having heart attacks and being recessitated by the very energy that is causing the attacks (that may or may not be what scientists and engineers call a "closed circuit system.")

"Really? Engineering references? Just give us the stories, Witz! We want the embarassments!"

The first time I drank red bull and vodka I was on a rooftop in Seattle, chilling in some chairs and listening to an ipod stereo. I don't know where the RBV's (I like to think the initials are appropriate not just for the ingredients, but because you're barrelling ahead like an RV with a big fucking BOMB ticking away waiting to make you explode) came from or why they seemed like a good idea to anyone while we were on a roof, but they happened. The rest of the story becomes blurry, but how I understand it is that we proceeded to listen to about 90 minutes of The Black Keys, before I suddenly started yelling at all of my friends for absolutely no reason (I probably had a reason, but it might have lacked a certain logic) and kept it up for some time. The next memory is of me taking a leak in some bushes that may or may have doubled as a heroin den, stepping high so that my sandle wearing feet wouldn't get stabbed by any needles. And that was that. A "full lid" as they say in the white house...or at least on The West Wing... And how did I find out about the music and berrating? Well, the next day I asked my friend earnestly, "Have you ever heard The Black Keys?" Yeah.

Swearing I would never drink it again, I found myself sitting at a bonfire on Saturday night, being handed an RBV by one of my friends. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the word, "Nokay," but I think it's Icelandic and it translates roughly to, "Yes."

You see, the thing you have to understand is that the group of people I was hanging out with, who I will call The Presidio Crew, are not only some of the best people I've met, but also some of the most insanely energetic and upbeat. Hanging out with them is like getting on a bullet train where you ask the conductor where the train is going and they say in Japanese, "You'll find out when you get there." To give you an idea, the last time we hungout, we went out until 2am, ended up back at their house at 2:30am, played Rock Band until it died at 3:30am, and then without a moment's hesitation, switched over to playing Mario 3 on old school Nintendo until 4am. On Saturday, we were up until 4am and then received a text saying, "It's cool to play music at the house tomorrow-- the earlier the better." And wouldn't you know it, but we were there at noon, awake and ready to go. Hanging out with them is like flying too close to the sun, so that you pick up some of their radiation and gain momentary energy and health properties formerly unknown to man. So as you can imagine, drinking RBV's with them is like blowing a few pounds of coke and then taking a seat on that bullet train for the next four hours.

I only drank two RBV's, but it was plenty. I didn't berrate anybody, which is always good, but this time around, it had a different effect on me-- it made me sprint. It turned me into an energetic puppy, and I didn't know it until it was upon me. The first time, we were walking back to get a taxi when all of a sudden a small asian guy who we'd never met before that night, but ended up at our bonfire in the woods zipped by us on his crotch rocket with one of our friends clinging to his back and whooping with joy. Without a moment's hesitation, the red bull spoke to me and it said very clearly, "Are you gonna chase that or what?" Before I knew what was happening, I was sprinting at full tilt after the motorcycle. When I finally slowed, I wasn't tired, nor was my heart racing. Apparently, when you've had RBV, your heart is ALREADY going at a "sprint pace" so there's no need for it to speed up during the run or slow down afterwards. Business as usual. But I guess I liked it, because a little while later, apropos of nothing, I sprinted forward, stopped and did a cartwheel, which is something I was not aware I was still capable of doing. From a third person perspective, I probably looked like someone trying to learn the controls for a video game. "Ok, sprint. What's B do? Ok, cartwheel. How about A? Oh yeah, right, sprint. What's this button do? Oh, it makes you sing loudly and out of tune to an acoustic bondire edition of 'My Own Worst Enemy by Lit. This game's fucking nuts.'"

The final sprint came when we had already missed our first taxi and the new one showed up in it's place. Someone was wandering ahead of us and tried to steal the cab, and that's when RBV spoke loudly and clearly, "GO!" And so I did. While the taxi drove at us, I sprinted headlong at the taxi, knowing that RBV probably wanted me to jump in front of it if need be and slam my hand into it causing THE VAN TAXI to stop, and thereby making me a lot like how I imagine Hancock is going to be. Maybe that's how that movie happened. "Let's make a movie where Will Smith drinks a shitload of red bulls with vodka!" Then some producer was like, "What if instead of that, he had superpowers?" to which the other guy replied, "Can he still be drunk and later hungover?" to which the producer replied, "Absolutely. We respect the integrity of your project." Unfortunately, had it come to that, I would not have stopped the taxi, but would have been like Bill Murray in Groundhog's Day, getting hit by the bus, which would hopefully have left me like Bill COSBY in Ghost Dad, and I could have haunted the woods for a while. FORTUNATELY, RBV backed down as the taxi slowed and stopped and as the taxi driver rejected the wandering guy and accepted us into the taxi. We achieved our goal, RBV was content, and sleep was soon to follow-- until I woke up at 9 the next morning, feeling completely intact and not surprisingly, very energetic. In fact, while everyone else is here on 6/23, I'm pretty sure I'm still living three or four days in the future. As the energy wears off, it'll start to even out, and with any luck, Friday will hit right about the same time.

"I'll never drink red bull and vodka again." It's like the Bible, more of a parable than a real statement. But that's enough for now.

RBV Vaccine,
Witz