Phil, Roger and I went to a party together where someone had concocted this hooch from hell: vodka or grain alcohol and red Hawaiian Punch. I had two...or five cups of the stuff, and so did Phil. By the end of the evening, I was seeing double, and had to hold on to the wall to move from one end of the room to the other. I also have some vague memory of us then going to Tee-Jays and doing donuts in the icy parking lot, but couldn't tell you who was driving.
Roger and I finally ended up at my place, and Phil (somehow) made it back to his apartment on the east side. I was really sick at that point, so when the phone rang, Roger answered it. I could hear him explaining patiently to Phil, "No, it's just the Hawaiian Punch. No, no...you're going to be OK." Phil was freaking out because he thought he was throwing up blood. I got to admit, it was a lurid color.
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I remember those "Hairy Buffalo" parties. First glass, it was "Man, this is way too strong" Second glass, "Not so bad". Third glass, "Is there anything in here? I can't taste the liquor"...To this day, I CAN NOT drink Hawaiian Punch. Ewwww
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