Sot

So this happened…

Last Saturday I decided to head on up to Sports Haven – my ‘local bar’ of late.  Arrived somewhat early in the afternoon (approximately 3:00pm) and met up with Ron for some coneys and beers.  $1 coneys are always seen as a good deal by me and, since Sports Haven has ‘em three days each week and is a rather short walk from my parent’s, I take advantage of the deal on a somewhat regular basis.  Invited both Ron and Erik to join me this time.

Ron and I arrived pretty much simultaneously – he even yelled something at me as his car passed me walking although I couldn’t make out what he said and never bothered to find out … I’m sure it was something silly as that’s just the way we are…  He was exiting his vehicle as I arrived at the bar.

We entered the bar, grabbed a table and ordered up some coneys and a couple beers.  I also got myself an order of fries.  And this was the beginning – two coneys, an order of fries and beer #1 for me.  I won’t track what the others had as that information is inconsequential to my story.  For me, however, it’s two coneys, one order of fries and a beer at this point.

We were sitting there enjoying our food, sipping on our beers and chatting when Erik arrived.  He joined us at our table and ordered himself a coney and a beer.  I believe this was where I decided to grab myself another coney and beer as well.  Not quite sure if this was my second or third beer although it seems to me that it was merely my second.  Not sure what time it was when Erik arrived, but I do believe that both Ron and I had already eaten our coneys and consumed our first brews – must have been around 3:30.  This now brings my running total up to three coneys, an order of fries and two beers.

The three of us were sitting there contemplating solutions to the various problems we’re currently being faced with in this shitty world that we find ourselves living in … or perhaps we were just reminiscing over previous attempts we made at the same; either way, we were once again ticking away the moments that make up a dull day as we had so many times before.  It’s always a blast to get the opportunity to chat with these guys.  I’ve known both pretty much my entire life and, regardless of how long the time span is between meetings, the conversation picks up from where we left off effortlessly.  Once again, we were at it.

Ron, at some point, received a phone call from his son and invited him to join us.  He lives close by and joined the three of us soon thereafter.  This was when I ordered my third beer … must have been somewhere around 4:00.

I believe it was about an hour or so that all four of us sat there sharing stories before Erik, Ron and his son needed to leave.  Must have been close to 5:00 when they all did just that and I decided to stay at the bar by myself.  I had nothing else to do and figured I might as well waste away the rest of the day hanging out at the bar, having a few beers and watching some football or whatever.  It’s not like I needed to worry about driving home later or anything – my journey home was known to be merely a 15-minute walk as usual.  I go to that bar primarily because it’s only “stumbling distance” from my home avoiding the worry of perhaps drinking a bit too much.  No drive, no problem…

I remember basically burning through the remainder of that day.  I watched the Chiefs eliminate the Colts and the Rams take out the Cowboys; participated in your typical, bullshit small talk that consistently occurs between patrons in sports bars; ordered up some more fries and had a couple more coneys ($1-a-piece, why not?).  I was also, throughout the entire day, drinking beers.  I wasn’t really keeping track of how many beers I ordered however there were seven listed on the final tab I paid prior to leaving the bar.  It was slightly after 2:00am when I began my walk home – some 11 hours after arriving.

Thinking back on the evening/night later, I do not recall actually doing any “binge” drinking.  The seven beers on my tab actually seemed like too many when I received it and I remember saying the same to Coreen, the bartender.  Since they were on special (I think they were something like $1.75 each) and I didn’t really want to argue over something so petty, I just paid the tab.  She may have accidentally included the three beers I had already paid for from earlier in the day, but who really knows…?  I didn’t much care.

As to my condition, I felt fine – a little tipsy, but overall stable.  I distinctly remember the walk home as clear as a bell.  I remember entering my parent’s house, switching the light in the living room on, brushing my teeth, switching off the light in the living room and going to bed.  I remember all of that as being completely normal.  I felt completely sober.  I wasn’t stumbling or anything.  It was approximately 2:20 in the morning…

Next thing I vaguely remember was – oh, I’m not exactly sure how to describe this – “coming to” perhaps … somehow lying slumped in the corner of the bathroom and hearing this scale that my parents have (the electronic speaking type) sounding off that, “Your weight is twenty point zero pounds,” followed shortly by getting assisted up by my father in my bedroom where I apparently fell again.  I then headed back to my bed and lied there for some unknown amount of time (not long, though…) before getting up and noticing that my underarm deodorant had been knocked over on my dresser and wondered exactly what happened with that.  I don’t remember getting out of bed to begin with, heading into the bathroom nor returning to my bedroom between the two occurrences of “coming to.”  Not only that, but I distinctly remember hearing the scale read off a weight of exactly 20.0 pounds exactly one time … it usually states the weight twice followed by a “powering down” announcement.  All I heard was one announcement of 20.0 pounds with no notification of powering down – at least that’s all I remember.  I’m positive that more was said.  I found out later, from speaking with my parents, that all this madness occurred sometime around 6:30am – that’s somewhere around four hours after I went to bed.

I also felt like I had been in a fight or something.  I hadn’t … but it was later explained to me, by my parents again, that I had apparently passed out in the bathroom (and the newly bent towel rack in there is a strong sign of where, exactly, that was) as well as in my bedroom where I ended up slumped between a dresser and the door of the closet.  My back and upper right arm had a couple somewhat deep scratches and, as I would soon find out, my coccyx (tailbone) got bruised … again.  Been noticing that basically for the entire last week although it seems to be getting better now…

So my mom’s pissed now – I did mention the bent towel rack, right…? – and I’m confused.  What the hell happened?  It’s gotta, at least in some aspect, be related to what I drank the evening before; but I felt fine when I walked home.  I’m not just saying that as a joke – I’ve been drunk many times before and do know what being drunk feels like.  I was steady as a rock when I left the bar and walked home.  Although it is possible that I drank as many as ten beers that day – although I’m thinking the total was closer to seven – that was in the span of eleven hours.  Either way that’s less than one beer per hour … and the beers were of the ‘short’ variety – they were on special at $1.75 a piece, so they weren’t large.  And why would I be passing out some four hours after going to sleep?  I’m still wondering exactly what happened there…

So now I’m thinking that I damn well better stop drinking completely.  That’s a bummer … it was nice to go have a few beers as a brief escape from this shit-show that my life has become every once in a while; but after that experience I’m thinking I better quit that.  I don’t know, is that possibly a sign of impending alcoholism?  Now that’s something I most definitely do not need.  Oh well, one more minor pleasure gone.  Life just continues to get shittier and shittier…

bis später,

Coriolis