The Safeway Story: Chicken Meets Monkey at 2100h

This actually took place back in October, on Halloween to be exact, but the story itself is so epic that I figured it still needed to be published in some way or another. Hell, the monkey will at least be grateful; he wants this story to go down in history, but his poor monkey brain is so foggy from that night that I'm not sure he could be the one to make it happen.

It's about 7:00 and I'm writing a paper due at midnight. Who assigns papers due on Halloween in college, I'm not quite sure. I have to think that he didn't have a lot of friends during his college days, and is therefore punishing us. I'm actually on a roll for once when my phone rings. It's my boyfriend, Billy, and I'm surprised he's calling so early.
"Hey babe, what's up?"
"Heeeeeey! Baby can you do me a favor and drive me to Safeway?" He's slurring. I hesitate and ask why. He tells me because he and Matt can't drive since they just did fourteen shots each. Of hard liquor. Fourteen. Holy fuck, I'll be there in five minutes.
I get to his house in record time to find him in his living room. In a giant monkey costume. With a cape. And motocross goggles. I turn around to see Matt flying down the stairs in a giant chicken costume. Also wearing a cape. This is going to be a long night. I explain to him that while I love him very much, I have a paper due in four hours and can't babysit tonight. I specifically say that I don't have the patience to pick him up and drag him upstairs if he's passed out on the floor. He assures me this will not be the case and promises not to slip into any mode of retardation.
Billy convinces me that it is imperative that we make a trip to Safeway, right now. I ask what he needs and he, proud as a first grader who aced his first spelling test, produces a grocery list from somewhere inside the monkey suit. The list includes a number of items including dog food, glade scented oil, yogurt, bananas, grapes, eggs and drano, among others. So the three of us pile into the truck, Billy yelling directions from the backseat behind his goggles. I know where we're going, sweetheart. I'm way too sober for this.
We go to the store and Billy immediately starts pushing Matt through the store in a cart, ramming into everything within a mile. We find the Glade section and Billy knocks over an entire display. He's losing his motor skills, fast. I apologize profusely to the woman working, as the look on her face clearly states "I don't get paid enough to put up with this." I know ma'am, neither do I.
I start rushing the trip, realizing that both boys are only going downhill as the booze hits their system. We lose Matt somewhere in produce, and Billy volunteers to find him. How noble of you, honey.
"Chicken? Bgack! Chiiiiiiiiiiiicken! Where are you?! Bgaaaaaack!" He's yelling now and people are starting to stare. Shit, I would be too at this point. We find Matt in the dairy aisle, surrounded by a group of my sorority sisters, holding a carton of eggs. He's giggling and we can't understand why until the girls explain the irony of a chicken holding a carton of eggs. Spare me. So we collect Matt, the eggs, and the rest of the groceries and go to pay.
We get to the car, and Billy, ever the gentleman, tries to load up the truck. Emphasis on tries. While I'm returning the cart he somehow manages to get the carton of eggs and bag of grapes stuck under the rear wheel.
"How the fuck did you run over something already? I have the keys!" I'm more impressed than annoyed at this point. These guys are some sort of special.
We get home and they unload the car, which consists of throwing entire bags or groceries into a pile. I put everything away, and go to find Billy. I'm standing in the hallway, and he walks by, actually bumps into me, and still doesn't notice I'm there. He sits down on the couch, takes off the monkey mask, and proceeds to stare at the wall. I'm about to ask if he's ok, when, in one fluid motion, he passes out whilst sitting and slinks into a heap on the floor. I give Matt the reserved annoyed girlfriend look, and we carry Billy upstairs. Matt leaves me alone to undress him and I finally get him settled into bed.
"Honey do you think you need to throw up?" By this point he's at least conscious again. Sort of. He shakes his head, mumbles that he's fine and starts retching. Shocking. I get him to the bathroom, at which point he's hugging the toilet for dear life, and he starts puking. Everywhere. I get him back to bed half an hour later and ask how he's doing.
"Es tut mir Leid. Ich liebe Sie." Oh right. He gets drunk and turns German. How could I have forgotten? I rub his back and ask if he understands that he's speaking in German. He gets annoyed. "Ja."
"Ok love. And you understand that I speak English?"
"Nein!" I pause, waiting for English. It never comes. He goes off in a stream of German, which I'm sure is utterly profound and should be recorded. I give it about twenty minutes and come back. He seems more coherent, and at this point is speaking English but still throwing in German terms. I ask why he hadn't been speaking English earlier.
"I don't know. I thought you understood Deutsch! Warum sprechen Sie Deutsch nicht?" We go back and forth for about fifteen more minutes before I give in, give him a kiss and tell him to go to bed. I crawl in bed later and he doesn't move, until he wakes up around six and hugs me. "Baby I'm so sorry." If you only knew.