I Projectile Vomited After I Drank Two Four Lokos

There is only one reason you drink Four Loko.

And it is to get fucked up.

Going through my Facebook pictures, I found this gem, dated July 10, 2010, which I’ve provided for you below.

image by Michael Koh
image by Michael Koh

Taken with my Blackberry, these frighteningly dangerous beverages were held in high esteem by my jealous colleagues. In Buffalo, it seemed that no one could get enough of Four Loko. The local Mobil gas station was packed with people who wanted in on the Four Loko experience.

When it was announced that Four Loko would be “banned,” we all felt aggrieved. By we, I mean most of the 20-somethings in Buffalo. “They can’t do this,” a friend said to me. “Why are they doing this, this isn’t fair.” It was as if we felt personally attacked by the government when they “banned” Four Loko because the caffeine and alcohol content of the drink were, and still are, dangerous. The problem was, at least, to me very obvious. We all knew it was dangerous. That’s why we drank it in the first place. We embraced the blackouts, the Four Loko comedowns (the anxious jitters one would feel after a Four Loko night), the “crazy fun” we’d have on this liquid cocaine, the mistakes you wouldn’t remember, the drinks you would spill, the people you would fight….

On July 10, 2010, I managed to drink two Four Lokos to go out to a “dance party,” which used to be quite popular in Buffalo. (Is it still?) My friends and I, all with Four Loko flowing in our veins, watched Techno Viking before leaving, to “pump ourselves” up. We then somehow talking in “German accents” to each other, emulating Techno Viking, who is not even German.

When we pulled into the parking lot, my friends and I yelled out to passersby in our “German” accents and we “convinced” people that we were exchange students from Germany (and apparently some people did believe us, because someone asked me later in the week if I was really from Germany). I remember calling out to two girls (who eventually became friends with us) and said something like, “Vy are you not driving a German car? Zat is so not German.” Typing this out, I realized how much of an ass I was in 2010. (I probably am just as much of an ass or a tiny bit less, considering I don’t drink Four Loko anymore.) They played along and we confessed, with a hint of Buffalo’s quintessential Elmwood hipster I-don’t-really-care-what-you-think-but-I-really-care-what-you-think attitude, to our Four Loko binge and we all went inside.

I was at the bar with a friend of mine, Hannah. I was getting her a drink when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was a guy and he asked me for my name. “Mike,” I said. I extended my arm for a handshake. “Oh, nice to meet you, Mike.” He said his, but I don’t remember his name. “What are you doing here?” he asked me. I told him I’m here dancing with my friends. I thought he was talking to me to ask me if I could introduce him to Hannah, but instead, he asked me for my number. I gave it to him, not really thinking, and not really knowing what was going on. “Okay, I’ll put you in my phone as Asian Mike,” he said and disappeared. After leaving the bar, Hannah asked me, “Was that guy hitting on you?” I told her I didn’t think he was. She didn’t believe me. “I thought he was going to ask me for your name,” I said. “Yeah, I thought he was talking to me to get to me,” she said.

I think this was the same night I smashed my shin on the stage (from trying to jump up over it), after my jeans clung to my sweaty thighs from dancing.

Later that night, Hannah watched me speak in that extremely exaggerated German accent to a group of people, making a fool out of myself. She also witnessed me projectile vomit down a flight of stairs at a car park across the street from the venue. After I threw up, all she said was, “Whoa.” (Strangely enough, throwing up together was on our To-Do List before she took off for Europe that year.) She also watched me play frisbee with a bunch of people, until said frisbee actually hit her on the forehead. Hannah became visibly upset and left. She didn’t pick up her phone, and we felt scared that something happened to her after she left the party. My friend, Don and I waited for her on the steps of my porch. I think we waited about 30 to 40 minutes, when we saw Hannah walking down the street. In panic-fueled rage, Don and Hannah got into a verbal argument about her leaving the party and not caring about how much we cared about her. The argument, however, abruptly stopped as it had started and we stood there in silence, feeling the hold of Four Loko escape our bodies and into the void. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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