Friday, March 23, 2007

I Fell Down The Stairs


I love the Raymond Carver poem where he describes getting drunk for the first time with a girl who spit on him. In the words of the great St. Ray, "I kept getting drunk and getting spit on for years." The first time I got so drunk that the floor spun was in college with my one and only roommate, Sarah. At the time, she was engaged to a rich Arab guy whose main contribution to their relationship consisted of teaching her how to swear in Arabic. We'd gone over to his apartment obstensibly to make a cake for his birthday, but instead ended up getting ass-out drunk on some cheap jug wine and peppermint schnapps while listening to old Bob Dylan on the boombox, the height of technology at the time. We drank from noon until five when she was supposed to pick him up from work. I did what all drunk dumbasses do which is pick up the phone and start to call friends who couldn't believe a control freak like me had whittled away a Friday afternoon under the influence of cheap liquor and bad politically-incorrect pizza as we had ordered a special from Dominos which I mangled -- the cheese will sober me up! and raided his freezer for popsicles.
Told my friends I was fine to drive back to the dorms, in fact, perfect, before collapsing underneath the staircase in a pile of laundry. Sarah tried to find her beloved's car keys. Bob sang on about being in his dream if he could be in ours. We finally pulled it together enough to make it out the door, no cake, no balloons, nothing. Sarah got a little hysterical -- her betrothed was not above beating the shit out of her if things weren't going well. Things are fine, I said. Things, of course, were not fine. Were in fact a fucking trainwreck. I can drive home, I told my friends. That popsicle sobered me up all right! Nothing bad happened, though. Sarah managed to pick up her betrothed after passing the exit three times and having him curse at her in English the rest of the ride home. My friends found me and picked me up so I wouldn't have to drive while I sang (the real tragedy of this story) out the window. The times, they were a'changing or so it seemed until the next morning when Sarah came over covered in bruises. I fell down the stairs, she said. Too much wine, she said. Booze, it seemed, could cover a multitude of sins.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"What a wonderful life I've had! I only wish I'd realized it sooner." Colette
Cocktail Hour
Drinking essay suggestion: "Quality Time Keeps Love Fresh" Lewis Nordan (printed in The Bastard on the Couch)
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Friday!
19 days until The Sopranos airs!

13 comments:

Nick Carraway said...

I have been drunk just twice in my life....

O.J. Simpson said...

I loved her too much.

Gilda Radner said...

Hi, this is Baba Wawa!

Ed Poe and Tim Leary said...

We were kicked out of West Point, guess why.

Bob M. said...

Red, red, wine makes me feel so fine.

Tony Soprano said...

When Christopher and I robbed the wine from the bikers who themselves were stealing it was one of the joyous highpoints of my life of crime. Christopher and I got drunk that night on that wine and we admitted our love for each other, not in a homo way. It was one of the great nights of my life and I still have many of those wine bottles in my basement wine rack.

Christopher Moltisanti said...

It was a great night, T.

DesignByRazor said...

Just for the record, the idea of a "drinking essay suggestion" amuses me to no end. :)

paul said...

myCajunQ
soundlikemykindofparty
rockonbaby
FoxlyLadyD
JazzMama
MightyEye
SpikeHeel
Shzazzzzzzzzzzz
R2C2!!!!!

JR's Thumbprints said...

I woke up once, drunk, and with bruises all over my chest. But nevermind. I'll never explain that one. Not in a million years.

Cheri said...

Hell, I'm drunk right now.

the walking man said...

I used to drink a fifth of liquor (Jim Beam) every night (or close to it) for 17 or 18 years and still worked two jobs. and for the 14 of those years i can't remember ever having been drunk, just hungover after three to four hours sleep.

Charles Gramlich said...

The first time I remember the world spinning was one Christmas when I was about 14. My older brothers kept giving me booze and laughing until I was seriously drunk. I was fine until I tried to lay down to sleep. I think I slept sitting up that night.