Ambien purchase of the day, volume 1
We’ve all heard the stories of ostensibly conscious and fully aware people driving, binge eating, walking around and doing other bizarre activities on the prescribed sleeping pill/sedative Ambien (zolpidem)—when in reality they’re fast asleep and can’t remember a damn thing the next morning. In fact, I have a friend who used to cook extravagant feasts during the night and not recollect one moment of it upon waking (until she walked into the kitchen, of course).
In my experience with Ambien, however, I just purchase useless, really dumb shit online. And don’t remember a lick of it… until I get an unexpected package in the mail a week or two later.
The thing is, I don’t rouse from my pharmaceutically-induced slumber and do e-commerce in the middle of the night. I end up cruising the cyber-aisles about an hour after taking Ambien, in the course of resisting it (let’s be honest, half the fun of a sleeping pill is resisting it for as long as you can; the other half is sleeping). To be sure, the drug is in full effect, and I’m certainly in an indiscriminate hypnotic state when I press “place your order.”
One such purchase is the BeerBelly.
The BeerBelly is a stealth beverage container and serving system. It consists of two parts: the bladder and the sling. The sturdy bladder can hold up to 80 oz of your beverage of choice, and it dovetails wonderfully into a custom-shaped pouch in the sling. The sling is made of neoprene, insulates the liquid and feels like skin to the touch under your clothes (for when those meddling security folks pat you down on your way into a concert, stadium or one of those tiered hospital operating theaters where you watch surgery in action). When worn, it looks just like a beer gut, and it stays cold for hours.
But don’t take my word for it. Look at this shirtless dude modeling the BeerBelly. He’s so stealthy, I can hardly tell it’s on.
Oh wait, I guess a shirt does help to hide it—but it sure doesn’t help sell the super sexiness of the BeerBelly. See how unsexy he looks now with that dumbass shirt?
Actually the BeerBelly kit this alcoholic stud is swilling from isn’t the regular BeerBelly. It’s the BeerBelly Deluxe—the same one I purchased, that’s just $15 more and a total steal at $49.95. Apparently a regular BeerBelly wasn’t enough for my discerning, sedative-addled tastes. The Deluxe comes with the BeerBelly Ice Pack Pleasure Extender AND the one-step BeerBelly Cleanser. All wildly useful…if I were 22 years old and all about cramming as much cheap alcohol down my gullet as possible in public places. But I ain’t 22 no more. And in the 6 years I’ve owned my BeerBelly, I’ve used it ONCE. As a costume. At a white trash party. Have a look-see:
It’s a good thing I didn’t have a steady girlfriend at the time (or wife, as I do now; in fact, that’s her sexy tushy in the photo above), or I’m sure I would have sprung for the BeerBelly’s female counterpart, the WineRack:
If you’ve come this far (and I thank you), you’re probably wondering to yourself or aloud, “How exactly did wacky Zac find the Beer Belly in the first place?”
Well, the disappointing answer is, I’m not quite sure. Ask the Ambien. I think perhaps it was a “related item” and perfect complement to the Stadium Pal, an external catheter with a urine bag strapped to your calf that I stumbled across earlier in the day (pre-Ambien) and deemed terribly awesome.
What an ingenious invention… if you like pointless shit. When you gotta go but you wanna stay, it’s Stadium Pal to the rescue. Piss away, amigo, and your friends and hot date will be none the wiser. Now that’s a win-win situation—except for the warm bag of piss snuggled around your lower leg.
In fact, David Sedaris does a fantastic bit on his misadventures with the Stadium Pal. Thank you, David.
Moral: unplug and/or hide your computer before ingesting Ambien.