12/24/09

    A great drinking story from back in the day, y'all...

    A little background first.  You see, at the time, my best friend Joe lived by himself in the basement of his parents' house.  Sounds kinda weak, yeah, but this was like a finished apartment:  bedroom, living room, kitchen, bathroom, cable TV, comfy furniture...had it's own entrance...now you get the picture.  Since most of the rest of us were still living in our bedrooms, Joe's place was the cat's ass, and became the site of many Binge-Drinking Events among mutual friends.  I hesitate to call these events "parties," because that word implies that at least some members of the opposite sex are involved who you may have a chance with...and, to be honest, at that point in our lives Joe and I were pretty fucking far from that scenario.
    Our BDE's were usually a bunch of guys hanging out, shooting the shit, playing Mario Kart, and getting blasted.  (Or playing RISK, but that's a different funny story - TRUST me, it is - though I don't think alcohol had a big part in that one.)
    Well, one fine day, Joe and I got our hands on the recipe for a mixed drink called Red Death (gee, that sounds like WACKY fun right out of Edgar friggin' Allan Poe!).  I'd list the ingredients here, but if you're reading this and have never heard of it, you can obviously go ahead and GOOGLE it.  SO!  We pile into Joe's Nissan Sentra and take our little shopping list to the liquor store.  If you have resisted the temptation to GOOGLE the Red Death, I will tell the uninformed that this is about $70-$80 worth of hard booze.  Oh, and that dash of lime juice.
    We get back to Joe's pad, unload our cargo, and we are sure we are well on our way to becoming certifed mixologists.  Me and Joe.  Two guys who are still getting carded.  Working off a recipe given to us by an indisputable pot-head and using a giant Tupperware bowl to mix this shit up.
     Joe makes a few phone calls.  Invites some of the gang.  Come on over and try this RED DEATH shit we made!  YAH!  WHOO!
    While we're waiting for people to show up, Joe and I begin to sample our witches' brew.  This we do using giant Tupperware cups.  (Okay, we HEARTILY sampled, and YES, Joe had a LOT of inherited Tupperware stuff.)
     Now, Indisputable Pothead had assured us: "DUDE, this stuff'll kick your ASS!"
    After we down our giant Tup-Cups of Inevitable Ruin, Joe and I look at each other - still very sober - and say something like "Bull-SHIT!"  Obviously neither of us had been shown the PSA about NOT GUZZLING HARD LIQUOR, and fill up the Tup-Cups once more.

    Fast-forward a bit.

    The gang's all here.  Me and Joe are BUH-LASTED - WAY ahead of the curve at this point.  Everyone else is sipping their drinks and, I imagine, looking at the two of us quite nervously.  We are Elvis hanging out in a room full of Buddhist monks.
    So Joe and I have this TERRIFIC idea: "WE'RE GOING TO WALK UP TO PERKINS AND PICK UP SOME CHICKS!!!"  YAH!  WHOO!  Because WE are just WAY too charming to POSSIBLY be refused.  Or arrested.
    A little more background here.  Where Joe lived at the time is a small, dark, forested side-street.  Perkins is a restaurant/all-night hang-out about a mile away.  Connecting these two points is Route 191 - a rather busy highway with rather narrow shoulders.  At one point on this trek, Route 191 intersects with Route 22 - a VERY VERY busy highway.
    AND NOT ONE PERSON - NOT ONE OF OUR GOOD FRIENDS - TRIES TO STOP US.
    To this day, my only guess is that they didn't think we'd make it up the stairs to actually LEAVE the apartment.
    Drunk Trek - starring Dave and Joe.
    To my amazement, we survive the cars whizzing past us at arms-length on Route 191; AND we survive the Route 22 intersect, which puts us about three-quarters of the way there.  Home stretch, baby!  The hot drooling virgins are just waiting for us up on that hill.  In a restaurant.  For us.  At Perkins.  Muslim extremists have better logic systems than this.
    This is about the time I realize that MY LEGS DON'T WORK.
    I get the sudden impression that Sober Me is mentally kicking me in the ass and HARD.
    YOU ARE STRANDED, BUDDY.  YOU ARE A BEACHED WHALE.  YOU'RE TOAST. 
    So what to do?  (Realize, dear reader, that this is LONG before the age of the cell phone...)
    What to do?
    Yes!  YES!  GOT IT!
    Start reciting - nay, YELLING - inspirational banter from those great "Rocky" movies!
    Two drunk guys weaving down the side of a highway doing Mickey and Apollo Creed:
    "Eye of the tiger!  EYE OF THE TIGER!"
    "Eat lightning and crap thunder!"
    "NO pain, NO PAIN!"
    And so on.
    I think that bought me a few extra steps.
 
    CUT TO:  DARKNESS.

    This is where it gets tricky 'cause all I know is what people have told me in The After.
    As I'm told, Joe helped limp my blacked-out ass ACROSS Route 191 and into a grassy knoll beside the McDonald's parking lot there.  Apparently this involved dumping me over a small wire fence,  but it was nice and dark there in the grass - so I wouldn't get rolled, abducted, fucked without consent, or picked up by cops.  A good place to hide the temporarily dead.
    Then Joe - and this is the mark of a true friend here, folks - re-crossed the highway and hoofed it back to his house to get help.
    Now, when I tell this next part, remember that I am in an alcoholic coma, alone and extremely vulnerable, maybe 10 yards from the Mickey-D's parking lot, and Joe is shitting himself, probably wondering if anybody will still be AT THE HOUSE when he gets there.
    So Joe somehow gets back, bursts through the door, swaggers through the kitchen and into the living room where everyone is still politely sipping their Red Deaths (I'm sure it WAS vile) but now eating some food, and our friend Tom says - in that brass-and-baritone way Tom has of speaking - "HEY BUDDY!  WHERE'S DAVE?"
    And then Tom shoves a big handful of McDonald's french fries into his craw.

    Once the Lightweight, Now the Heavy
    D George Gawlik



    12/25/09

    ADDENDUM:  In this excerpt from FaceBook, Joe picks up the story where my consciousness leaves off.

    The Red Death Fiasco: Part Deux.

    In a story here my brother-in-arms David describes an incident which goes down in memory for one of the dumber things we ever did.

    Trouble is, after the blackout, he doesn't remember the details that followed.

    After I marched my drunk ass back the mile or so to my house and found that at least one person MUST HAVE DRIVEN RIGHT PAST US, I grabbed Tom and we got in his three-on-the-tree Ford F100. 5 minutes later we were back in the parking lot, I was in the truck and Tom was standing over Dave attempting to motivate him toward mobility. Exactly what was said is unclear, but it sounded like a bassoon arguing with an out of tune violin. Finally, Tom reached down, grabbed Dave, and carried him over to the truck. "MAKE ROOM BUDDY!" Tossed him in my lap, and off we went.

    Back (again) at my place, Tom carried Dave downstairs and into the living room to let him sleep it off. I sat there, now mostly sober from the walking and general holy-shitness of the whole event and told everyone what went down after we left. People came and went, and then Dave was upright but incoherent.

    "What's up buddy?" Tom asked.
    "need to go bathroom" Dave mumbled.
    "Sure thing." and Dave walked past us, turned right, and started walking out the apartment door.
    "WHOA WHOA GRAB HIM STOP HIM WHERE'S HE GOING."

    Tom tried to grab Dave by the midsection, but Dave, in a fit of cartoon physics, latched onto the doorframe like a cat that doesn't want a bath and just bent and stretched despite any amount of force applied. Changing tactics, Tom reached up and grabbed Dave's wrists, ripped the fingers from the exit, and spun them both round and into the bathroom in one motion, slamming the door behind them.

    Once the obvious sounds of struggle died, we waited. Tom reappeared after a short while, "Well, I got him cleaned up as much as possible. But it's not pretty."

    Eventually, Dave emerged, we all wound up crashing for the night, and in the morning Tom and I were shooting the breeze when Dave awoke and stumbled into the kitchen.

    "How ya feeling, buddy?"

    "Well, my contact is missing. My wallet is gone. And there's something that...smells like...vomit all over me."

    "Ah, that would be vomit."

    Thanks, Joe - that's quite enough.

    The Mad Max Master-Blaster of Vomitus
    D George Gawlik

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