Scott Drummond

My 20th birthday was a disaster. My friends tried to combine two birthdays into one night. The jumbled mess ended in a ruined dinner and hateful bickering among friends. I decided to take the fate of my 21st birthday planning into my own hands.

As a Muslim, I don’t drink. Still feeling the need to consume shots, I developed this genius idea of coffee-shop hopping in an effort to intoxicate myself with 21 shots of espresso.

I started the day taking the Law School Admissions Test, or LSAT, at 8 a.m. I mustered up my 21 years of knowledge and used every last bit of it on the three-and-a-half-hour test. To help flush all dreams of law school down the toilet, I decided to drown my sorrows in a Starbucks Double Shot Espresso about 1:30 p.m. to get an early start on those 21 shots. Drinking the contents of yet another Double Shot Espresso can, I left Starbucks with two Frappuccino mocha bottles in hand.

After a quick shower, I attempted to take a nap, which consisted of me aimlessly staring at the wall unable to keep my eyes closed for longer than 10 seconds. At 5 p.m., it was time to prepare for the party. I strapped on my Scottish kilt belt and downed one of the Frappuccino bottles before leaving for dinner at 7:30 p.m. Shortly after, I chugged the second bottle at Papa Keno’s, caving in to the peer pressure of the wild birthday clan surrounding me. The 20 of us then gathered together all the loose tables at Papa Keno’s, taking up half of the pizzeria. Full from the Frappuccinos, I was unable to eat my pizza. So instead, I decided to throw bits of it at my unsuspecting friends — I was already beginning to feel the effects of the coffee.

I became restless at Papa Keno’s and was no longer able to sit still in my chair for longer than 30 seconds. We decided to walk next door to Aimee’s Coffee House for a freshly prepared espresso shot. I took the cup and saucer and gulped down its contents. The disgustingly bitter shot surged through my body within seconds and caused a convulsive shake. The jittery feeling found an escape through my fingertips, that put even Kirsten Dunst’s spirit fingers to shame.

Words began to pour out of my mouth at a rapid speed. No longer were my friends able to understand me. The coffee heightened my hearing, which caused secret whispers from across the room to tunnel into my ears.

With my new super powers at use, I threw on a tiara and proudly strutted my stuff down Massachusetts St. While eating an espresso-filled chocolate truffle, I even found the confidence to run across a street filled with oncoming cars in my red stiletto boots. The night was panning out beautifully.

We managed to cram 20 people into six coffee shops. After my enticing performance of drinking two espresso shots within seconds of each other at Java Break, I ended the night with a grand finale in the bathroom of Borders. The smell of coffee made my vulnerable state worse as I found my way from the café to the bathroom. Paralyzed by the queasy feeling engulfing my stomach, I remained kneeling in front of the toilet for 15 minutes. I managed to keep down the 16 espresso shots that I had taken, but decided to end my relationship with the espresso bean.

My friends drove my nauseated, yet very loud self back to my apartment where my siblings met up with us for some strawberry mousse cake. Taking a seat next to the cake on the kitchen table, I violently tore into it with the largest knife we owned and inhaled a massive corner piece. Then I took it upon myself to entertain my guests with various mime acts.

Nearing the last few minutes of my birthday, I sung my birthday song with a loud, obnoxious voice and conducted a game of “Simon says” to ensure that I had everyone’s undivided attention on my big day.

I fell asleep on the couch at 4 a.m. once the caffeine had worn off. When I woke up five hours later, I recalled the lessons learned from the previous night: Always plug your nose before taking a shot, keep a chaser at hand and if you can drink, stay away from the espresso. Yes, the birthday surely was an unforgettable one, but coming in for a close second was the massive hangover I had the next morning.