"ohmigod I totally PAMed last night."
"With who?"
"Derek. I mean, I was fine... and then... all of the sudden-"
"Do you think he knew?"
"Ummmm, didn't seem like it, but who knows???"
"Do you think you are going to see him again??"
"errrr depends on how much he likes Baja Fresh quesadillas."
"so probably tonight, then, huh!"
The art of a solid, inconspicuous PAM cannot successfully executed by all or, in fact, by most. The majority of intoxicated, single Americans ranging from 18-30 ( I know, the range is long, but i don't want to discriminate) will not make it past the first stopping point: P. The A of the acronym PAM, the connector the bridges the initial P and the ultimate goal of a solid M. If you make it to M, you may even make it to even loftier late-night logistics. But don't get your hopes up.
At this point, you have either a) decided that PAM is an extremely dirty acronym b) gotten thoroughly confused and will inevitably keep reading c) gotten extremely bored, annoyed, and have not even made it this far or d) reminisced about all the PAMs in your life- you know exactly what I am talking about.
The highly scientific acronym PAM stands for the global late night phenomenon: Puke And Make-out. It is most successfully maneuvered by those who lack respect for the soon to be PAMed. Even better executed by those anticipating the likelihood of a PAM and pack their pockets and purses with mouthwash and mints.
The true key to PAMing is not to think about it to much. Realistically, one should say to himself, "Gee, I just vommed into a pitcher under the table... I should probably go home." No. That is what happens to the majority of the population: common sense and sobriety kick in as soon as your sphincters and digestive track fail you and your capacity to party.
Instead, change your perspective: Pitcher half full or pitcher half empty? pitcher half empty! I mean you did not fill the enitre thing, so you are probably good to go. And, to boot, no one saw! As a matter of fact, because you rolfed your Chipotle, you now have more room left in your body to throw back a few more and that hawty shawty across the bar has been checkin' you alllll nighttttt. ...
When you think like this, you have hurdled over the moral dilemma that accompanies a P. You now have a PA and are oh so close to achieving that M. Not only are your inhibitions down from heavy consumption, but, in fact, you are able to gloat and stumble in that sense of achievement: "I rolfed and rallied!"
So go on, amble over there, you are a warrior. You have fought the urge to puke, failed, but are still ready to win the battle.
And there you have it: 15 minutes, 20 steps, and 2 SocoLimes later, you have successfully achieved a PAM to the tune of "Tik Tok" by Ke$ha deep in the dark of a dance bar.
