100 Proof/Guide to Guys Mash-Up: You Jaeger, You Brought Her

I was sitting at the bar last Friday night watching my friend Rebeca pour out, in succession, one round of 20 Jameson shots and one round of 20 Jaeger shots for a table of (wait for it) 5 guys, when we got onto the subject of just exactly what oceanic amounts of alcohol reveal about the average male.

REBECA: Oh God, can those Jaeger shots smell any fouler?
ME: [two zip codes away] I can smell them over here.
REBECA: What is the male fascination with Jaeger?
ME: Probably the fact that it smells like aftershave. Although I do know girls who do Jaeger shots.
REBECA: Oh God.
ME: But I have a motto. Girls who pound Jaeger will never pound me.
REBECA: Don’t get much these days, do ya?
ME: Much of what?
REBECA: [does a perfect spit take]

Over the next couple of minutes the two of us critically observed the effects of those Jaeger shots on the Guy Table.

REBECA: Look -- one guy just lifted up another guy.
ME: Yeah -- it’s like the all-male finale of Officer and a Gentleman.
REBECA: Does it hurt when you pound each other on the back like that?
ME: Only when the alcohol wears off.
REBECA: And all that hugging. Isn't it embarrassing?
ME: Only if someone takes a video of it.
REBECA: Okay--THAT'S embarrassing.
ME: Are they doing a Fred and Ginger number?
REBECA: I think they're just trying to stand up.
ME: It sounds like everybody's talking in tongues.
REBECA: Are they singing? What are they singing?
ME: I think it's supposed to be "Living On A Prayer."
REBECA: Jaeger and Bon Jovi. Perfect together.
ME: Wait--now they're all making ape noises, why is everybody making ape noises?
REBECA: Maggie just walked by.
ME: Oh; got it.

This is what happens when you give guys a lot of alcohol. They start saying things like “This guy! This guy!” or moshing each other like they just won the Super Bowl. Which is not what women do when you give them a lot of alcohol. When you give women a lot of alcohol, they start telling you things like, “See that guy over there? I really have a crush on him.” Or, “Last night I dreamed I killed my mother with a chainsaw. Again.” Or “I am going to tell you something I have never told anybody else in the entire world ever.”

Fat chance of getting a really drunk guy to tell you something he's never told anybody else in the entire world ever, right, ladies? Because when he's that drunk? The Verbal Automatic Pilot kicks in, and he's slurring a pre-recorded litany of Greatest Late Night Top-Tens, like, "You're so pre-e-e-e-e-etty!" and "You're the best thing that ever happened to me," any of which are the perfect excuse for you to hail a cab into which to pour his liquid ass.

Personally, I think excessive alcohol intake creates cross-gender TMI. In the male case, it's Too Much Idiocy; in the female case, Too Much Information. So after multiple shots of Jaeger, you get a bunch of guys who decide to play football in the middle of a restaurant, and after multiple chilled vodka shots, you get a bunch of women talking about things they don't even mention to their therapist. Like the night this one acquaintance of mine got so smashed that in the middle of a sentence she froze for ten seconds, stared off into space, and then turned to me and said, "You know? If I hadn't had that abortion? My kid would be starting high school in September."

REBECA: Oh my God! What did you do?
ME: What could I do? I pretended I was drunk.