Under Konfusion or Perpendicular or Waking Up The Neighbors

For anyone who doesn't know, drinking with a Turpin is something you get used to, like a new pair of shoes, or a lobotomy. It is not a process you just jump into. I've also learned that it is easy to forget what it is to drink with a Turpin. I was reminded. Here is my account:

So, a bunch of frisbee players were having a pub crawl. I've played enough disc to know that frisbee players are, for some reason, generally ropey, slender, and attractive. My favourite exception, Sarah, asked me to meet up with these people. Single and somewhat slender myself, I concurred.
I parked my car downtown. I locked my keys in the glove compartment with the intention of using my spare set the following day. Before doing so, I had forgotten to remove my house key from the keychain. I didn't realize this at the time.
First, I had to get drunk before finding these people, due to the females that would no doubt be beyond my caliber, and also because I was going to be drinking with a Turpin. I knew Sarah was nearby at this point, and I knew that she was wasted. (Just how I like her.)
Therefore, I pounded gins at the Celtic Hearth as my co-workers bustled and moved about me. I looked dynamite at this point. I had coordinated my outfit very well, and was even more excited about it because I did it all by myself. To boot, I was sporting a new, staggering mustache.
"Mustaches look stupid. blah blah blah" you'll say. Fair enough. But, if you remember Diedre, the attractive German with the young cousin from a few posts back, you might change your tune, since she asked for my phone number. No girl has ever asked for my phone number before. Out of the blue like that? Never before. This is moot in relation to the account, but I wanted to mention it because I'm clearly still excited about it and can't quite let it go yet.
It was then time to don my (drunken) game face and meet up. A text told me to go to Rob Roy's.
I don't really do downtown and I didn't know where Rob Roy's was. I only know the Irish bars because my brother Colin likes to drink in them. Observe:
Moving on. I saw a patio and the proper signage. I approached two fellows standing beside a door. They very much looked like typical bouncers. I believe one of them even had a barbed wire tattoo around his arm. I told them I was George Street staff (because I am), expecting to get in for free. This was supposed to work, though it was my first time trying it. It didn't work. They said that there was a 'charity'. I had no idea what they were talking about, but was too drunk to care by then. I paid and went upstairs. There were two very bored-looking typical bartender wenches and no one else. I was in Konfusion and it was then that I figured out that Rob Roy's was the patio.
They gave me my contribution back, but it took a minute. The larger fellow took a twenty from my hand, and I kinda gawked at him. He grinned, friendly like, and asked, "Can I have this?" I told him "no," but I also knew that this man weighed more than my family does, and he could therefore have whatever he wanted of mine. Graciously, he gave the money back. I guess it was a joke or something. People are so strange.
I arrived and Turpin was nowhere to be seen, and I wasn't really attentive to anyone else, apple of my eye that she is. Maggie suddenly appeared, leading me by the hand to her location.
Things happened. I got more gin, awards were distributed to frisbee teams. Turpin's team (whatever it was called) won second, which surprised me. I then realized that this was based on their pub crawl 'performance', and not their frisbee playing, and it made more sense.
While receiving their award, someone shouted that the team should take off their shirts. I was then expecting to see them take their shirts off (which I was ready for), but they didn't.
Turpin, properly sauced by then, got onstage, where she had been moments before. Only difference was that she was up there alone, and there was now no reason to be, socially speaking.
That was when she gestured that I join her, as provocatively as she ever would with me. So, we cut it. Hard. We danced the fuck out of the place while pictures were taken (though not as many as I would've liked).
At one point Sarah slurred "No matter how close we dance we'd never make out." Story of our lives, sadly. 
One. Two. Three. Switch.
Time had passed and everyone was milling about and drinking more. It slowly dawned on me then that Turpin was missing. Well, not missing, so much as absent. I went out to the patio, turning to look into the bar for her lanky, stork-like figure. I was supposed to be drinking a mystery shot of some sort, but this suddenly seemed unimportant. 
I assumed Turpin to be addressing boy issues which don't go in my blog, but may be in hers.
Barbed Wire showed up out of nowhere and asked for that "twenty I owe him." I told him "not now."
She had disappeared. This was not strange or out of place for me. I immediately accepted it, and I, just like that, disappeared as effortlessly as she had...
...into the Hearth again. In the span of a half hour I smoked pot with two separate groups of people without making any effort to do so. One group was a gaggle of complete strangers from Bishop's Falls. I was, at this point, sufficiently wasted. Suddenly, Turpin texted me. I managed to get her on the phone to give her my whereabouts. I then waited in front of the restaurant.
She reappeared, all legs and arms, and verbally meandered over God knows what. I felt a strong urge to extract us from the downtown scene at that point, so I brought us to a cab. Turpin refused to believe that it was in fact a cab I was trying to load her into. She's so cute when she's hammered.
As our cabbie drove us (recklessly) home, it occurred to me that I had no key to get us into my house. My roommates were all out. I said nothing about this as we careened on.
Turpin, meanwhile, was texting a lot (Lord knows what she might have been saying).
We arrived at my boarded home and I then explained that we were in fact locked out, and that she should perhaps hunker down, as we could be waiting a while to get in. Crystal, when drinking, often does not return home until 5 or so (as it turned out, she did not return at all on this particular evening).
Turpin seemed relatively unconcerned with our being restricted to my yard for potential hours, and instead yelled random shit about guys into my cul de sac from my front stoop. I hoped that she was waking my next door neighbor, since his dog never shuts up.
I was tired by then, so I let her go for a while.
20 minutes passed.
I decided that, given our time cushion, I might as well try the patio door. Maybe I'd get lucky, and it would be unlocked. I left Turpin to her dementia and rounded the corner of the house. I discovered that the patio door was open, with only the screen door being closed. The screen door I was willing to destroy with my mighty hands if it happened to be locked, but it wasn't. Liberated, I walked through the house to open the front door.
Now, drunk or no, there are certain things that people cannot get away with. Getting wasted and slugging a friend for no reason? Can't get away with it. Cheating? Can't get away with it.
I don't care how drunk she was, she doesn't get away with it. I opened the door, and Turpin turned and said, "You're so hot right now." She was saying it because of my supposed ingenuity for opening the door (I'm not even sure that she noticed me leave), but I was already looking forward to making fun of her the following day about it.
We slept, though I wouldn't call it sleeping, if you know what I mean.
It was 7 and I was suddenly awake. Turpin was making her gross sleeping noises. I tossed and turned for what ended up being three hours. Three hungover hours.
Turpin eventually vomited. I sang "Just call me angel of the morning (angel)" as she finished. We muttered various tidbits. We snoozed.
Turpin got up and vomited again, so I sang her new vomit song again. She asked for crackers with Cheez Whiz and juice. I grabbed crackers from my brother, Cheez Whiz from Crystal. I ensure she's fed.
We then went over the evening's events, and I quickly realized that Turpin was encountering many of them for the first time as I regaled her. She asked at one point, "Did we dance last night?"
...
"Did we do anything besides dancing?" I asked her. I filled her in on everything; her sexual advances, both physical and verbal, her disappearing, her reappearing.
We went back to sleep for a while, with her drifting first. Instead of laying on the bed like a normal person, she lay on the bed perpendicularly, with her stovepipe legs pointing t'wards my window.
I eventually slept perpendicularly as well, with my pale legs pointing towards my door.

Edit: Now that it's 2015 and she's dead, this was exceptionally hard to edit.