“You are such a nice guy”, she said. I chuckled to myself, ‘You really don’t know me very well do you? Let me introduce you to Dr. Jekyll. Mr. Hyde will be along shortly.” And then the madness began. At least it may seem like madness to most, but to me it was just another drunken regret among many before and many more to follow. In this case I should have known better than to try and associate with the uninitiated. This is definitely a case of live and learn. Let’s go back to the beginning of this evening.
A few years ago, after leaving a 21 year marriage, I sunk into a year long binge of drinking. I would get off work, start doing shots of tequila for dinner, settle into a six pack of beer, and pass out for the night. After about a month of this I decided it was time to socialize. Big mistake, since in general I did not like people. But even an antisocial person such as myself gets tired of talking to himself and the walls. Especially when the walls start talking back. So I invited a few people over for drinks at home, and a few more out at the local bar. I call them people, not friends because at the time I did not have anyone I considered a friend. And after that night they definitely did not call me a friend.
The evening started with my routine of Tequila shots, two hours before they were to arrive, and then two beers to calm my nerves. By the time they arrived I was pretty well lit. “They” consisted of 2 girls and one guy. I will keep their names a secret to protect their innocence. Girl 1 was the one I was kind of interested in, if you know what I mean. She came in carrying a large bottle of ice cold Jagermeister, which put a huge smile on my face. I love that stuff. To bad it does not love me. We all poured up shots, and the party got started.
After many shots of Jager, I decide to fix something that would appeal to the ladies. My take on the shot called a ‘Buttery Nipple”, which I make with 3 different liquors. This was the beginning of the end for me. By this time the world was spinning, and faces were blurred, and my mouth started to spew forth hate filled nonsense. I looked over at girl 1 and said, “You know I could never really date you, but I sure would like to **** you.” She stared at me dumbfounded, in a catatonic state of disbelief. I then turned to girl 2 and said, “I am not sure if I could get drunk enough to **** you, but I will try.” Then I proceeded to turn the bottle of Jager up, and suck it down like a starving baby. Then I turned to my third guest and said,”A few more shots and I might even **** you.” Falling to the floor cackling. They all decided it was time to go out. If I had any sense I would have stayed home, and if they had any sense they would have told me to stay home. Obviously we were all senseless, because next thing I knew we were in the car headed to the bar. The two things I really needed at that point were to be in public, and to consume more alcohol.
We arrived at the bar, and I stumbled in behind them. I was at this same bar the Friday before with girl 1, and we had enjoyed a nice night of dancing. Things sure can change in one week. I drug her to the dance floor on this evening, but it was far from enjoyable. I leaned on her for support, and shuffled around the floor like a zombie from Day of the Dead. I love zombie movies, but actually being one is not really too much fun. After abandoning the endeavor to boogie, I decided it was time for more drinks. I came back to the table with four shots, to be rebuked and shunned by my comrades. At the time I could not for the life of me guess why they were mad at me. So with a quick “**** all of you”, I killed all four shots. After this it gets hazy. I remember leaving our table, and coming back with a drink several different times even though I never bought another one that night. In my best assessment, I must have been liberating drinks from other tables. Who knows? I was too far gone by then.
Now my compadres decided to use good judgment and get me out of there. I think it was the fact that I was standing in the middle of the dance floor challenging anyone in the place to do battle that prompted them to make our escape. They got me into the car for the 10 minute drive back to my apartment. About half way there, the world began spinning a hundred miles an hour. I had to puke, and in a hurry. The driver quickly pulled off on a side road, and I fell out of the car. I finally managed to stand up so I could throw up properly. As the excess liquid fought to escape my body, I began to fly. Or that is what I thought, until I hit the bottom of a 15 foot ravine. Luckily my fall was broken by a soft bed of 2 inch thorns. After laying there for what seemed an eternity, I climbed back up the side of what had now become a canyon. I slowly popped my head up over the side like a retarded gopher to see the shocked eyes of the 3 poor saps who wanted to do nothing but dump me at home and get as far away as they could. I can just imagine the sight that slowly emerged from the depths of that ditch from hell. Eyes rolling in my sockets, tongue hanging useless from my mouth, covered in scratches and blood from head to toe, and laughing like a madman.
Now the 3 of them had finally lost their patience. Girl 2 says to guy, “Let’s leave him. I do not want to go to jail.” Then girl 1 comes to my rescue saying, “I am not leaving him. It is just around the corner.” So they wrestle me into the car and we make it to my parking lot. The door opens and I pour out onto the street. As I hit the comfort of the cold, hard pavement the remaining contents of my stomach landed beside me. They tried to get me upstairs to the safety of my apartment, but after the 4th or 5th time I told them “to go **** themselves and leave me alone”, they heeded my advice and left. So I lay there, next to my new friend Mr. Puke Puddle, and watched the sun begin to come up. The last thing I remember was hearing a voice that I thought was God telling me to crawl up the 3 flights of stairs to my apartment.
I woke up a few hours later in my bathroom floor without a clue of how I got there. My head was pounding, my body felt like it was hit by a truck, and it tasted like I had eaten an entire rotten dog carcass. I slowly dragged my self to my feet, and gazed into the mirror. The creature staring back at me looked like a demon from the depths of hell. Blood shot eyes, set in a pale shrunken face smeared with dried blood gazed at me from the mirror. I looked down at my arms to see blood covering the skin there as well. It took me few minutes to realize what caused this blood letting. Had I been a sacrifice at some pagan ritual? Nope, I remembered my fall into the razor sharp thorns. They had torn at my skin like some back alley cat strung out on catnip. I looked back into the mirror at the face that I despise the most, and went over the events of the night before. Like rewinding an old vhs tape, the images fly by barely comprehensible, but I get the gist of the situation. As usual, I was an ass who offended everyone in my general vicinity. I reached over and turned on the shower, running the water as hot as I could get it. I stepped in and let the scalding water wash over me. Erasing the stench of beer and puke, cleansing the blood from my skin, and flushing the shame of my behavior down the drain.
Later that morning I call girl 1, and apologize for my ridiculous behavior. She assures me she forgives me and everything is cool. I can tell she is lying. I ask her,” Do you still think I am a nice guy?” “No.” she says sadly. I say to her “Next time you will listen when I tell you.” “I do not think there will be a next time.” Says girl 1. “I think that might be best.” I answer. Then I hang up and reach for the bottle of Jager she left last night, finishing it off with one gulp. “Thanks, babe.”
