I don’t drink much. When I do, I find that I embarrass myself a great deal. Not because I’m sloppy and fall down and crash into things and wake up with bruises and have no idea from where they came (that happens, but that’s not why I’m embarrassed)--I get honest. Brutally honest. If I ever write a book it should be called Brutal Honesty. While wasted, I start telling people secrets and other things that no one should know about me. Like the time that I told this kid Chuck that I stole $100 from him way back in the day during a weed for money exchange (“drug deal” sounds so… illegal). Needless to say, he cared. And I now owe him $100 (I’m still in Chuck debt). I also tell people about their faults and flaws and why I don’t like them or do. Like the time I told Johnny, “I used to not like you, but then I decided that you can’t really help being a pompous asshole, so you’re okay in my book.” Or that I’m in love with them. That doesn’t happen so much, because I’m not in love with a whole lot of people.
What really scares me is when I don’t remember what I said nor did, which, thankfully, doesn’t happen often. I wake up on a couch with no recollection of the night after 2 a.m. It’s noon, so I take it I’ve been sleeping for a while. Everyone is in the living room watching football with my drunk-ass laid out on the couch. GREAT! Have I been drooling excessively? Snoring? Both? Did I say anything to hurt my friend’s feelings? Did I confess my love of Frankie Avalon? Most of the time, people say I keep my composure, but I have my doubts. Then the next day I send a text to a friend that’s really nonchalant, like, “What are you doing for the game tonight?” If I don’t receive a response within an hour, I start to worry. “Shit, I probably said something really, really stupid or mean or both.” Then I send another message that says something like, “I guess you’re really mad at me because I said something really stupid or mean or both. Please accept my apology. I’m a drunk-ass.” Then they call and ask what the fuck I’m talking about, and I just wave it off and say, “Never mind.”
Now that’s embarrassing. I swear the next day that I’ll never drink again, but that thought is out the window next Friday.