Tribute to the biggest lush I know

I wasn't supposed to go out last Friday. See, there's this pesky thing in May -- I hate when it's mentioned or referring to it by name, so I call it the G-word. And the paradox is, even though I absolutely detest the G-word and all that it entails (the end of three day weekends, spring breaks, and friends living no more than a hill away), I have to do it, and so that involves some homework

.BUT, one of my best friends from abroad came to Tufts for an impromptu visit, and if he could make it all the way from Skidmore College, the least I could do is have a few drinks (read: chuck the homework out the window because it's not gonna happen) with him and the Madrid clan. Jon is, after all, the biggest lush I know.

Jon meets more boys I do, smiles a lot sober and even more when he's drunk, and makes every night into an adventure, whether it's in Paris, Madrid, or Medford. The guy's got more crazy drunken stories than any frat guy on this campus, and when you're hanging out with him, you just don't know what might happen or where you'll end up.

Case in point: on our weekend trip to Paris, where he dragged me (well, more like brought me -- I never have to be dragged to any bar anywhere) to all the city's gay bars, we ran into Brits doing somersaults in the streets. They weren't gymnasts, but were pretending to be Wiley Kit and Wiley Cat from the cartoon ThunderCats. (In retrospect, I'm not sure why we didn't run away.) Soon after our English introductions, the feline Brits invited us to their flat for some beers and even some political discussion with other European drifters. Besides being part of a little Model U.N., it was one of my most random and fun nights abroad.

On this night in Medford, we started off with some beverages at 6 Liberty, then made our way to Underbones, a Gangstas- and '40s-themed party in West, another theme party at the Arts House, and came home laughing at 4 a.m. The night was the exact opposite of my original intentions -- stay home and work -- but I have no regrets. Adventure seems to follow Jon from the moment he puts on his leather jacket. (This jacket, by the way, tells part of the tale. No matter how inebriated Jon gets and no matter what drunken girl he's lent it to or what region of Spain he's left it in, he always gets it back. Yep, he's that kind of lucky drunk). And hey, he can even make a Friday night at Tufts fun.

Jon also makes an excellent wingman. The boy can chat up anybody -- the bouncer, the bartender, random passersby on the street. He has a friendly effervescence that isn't over the top, and he gets along with practically everybody -- key lush ingredients in my book, because how can you be life of the party if you don't enjoy life? I remember one night when a bunch of us went to a club in Madrid called The Ministry of Sound, and Jon and I teamed up to meet some chicos. Turns out, we weren't what los chicos were looking for, although maybe it was just our line -- "Tienes fuego?" (got a light?) -- because no one had a lighter in the whole club even though practically the entire country smokes. But we had fun trying and that's really the point.

Yet, what I appreciate most about Jon, besides his drunken antics, is his playful silliness. We act like kindergarteners together -- well, if kindergarteners liked sangria. In Paris, we ran around the Eiffel Tower like five-year-olds (no, seriously we did, we called it our Victory Lap) and took cheesy photos by all the monuments. When you're preoccupied in silliness, there's no time to worry about things like the G-word. It's refreshing.

So, who is the biggest lush you know? And what does he or she do to bring the best partier out of you? We all need a Jon in our lives. He doesn't have to be a cute gay guy from Lexington, MA, but he or she will always remind you to lighten up, pour you another drink, and convince you to go out when -- c'mon, face it -- you should. This is a tribute to the friends that create the uncontrollable laughter and unexpected nights that make for memorable stories later -- in other words, here's to the people who bring out the lush in all of us.