Drinking and Driving is totally stupid and I would never make light of something that has killed people, and has shattered lives. Even though I love to have a good time like the next guy, getting my drink on occasionally, I always make sure that I have a designated driver or call a cab when I have had too much to drink. I have also ruined friendships because how strict I am about it, even taking someones keys away from them when they are a few sheets to the wind. I know I act like Mother Superior now, but I wasn't always like this. There have been a few times where I could have risked my life driving drunk, but someone was kind enough to look out for me and prohibit me from doing so. This post is a tribute to them, it is also the specific stories surrounding their kindness.
The Strip: For anyone who knows anything about Virginia beach will tell you, getting drunk at the oceanfront is not the smartest move one can make. Primarily because the cops are extremely bored, so they will try to find any reason to put you in a illegal choke hold, or anally penetrate you with their nightstick. I had went to many of the overcrowded clubs at the strip, getting shitfaced and taking body shots off of miscellaneous women who didn't know how much of a asshole I was yet. A chick that I had known named Barbara who worked at another bar was there in attendance that night. As the night was coming to an end, I was the last person in the bar. She asked me, "Are you alright to drive home??" Trying to look sober I said, "I'm fine, don't worry about me!" She giggled, pointed towards the floor and said, "OK tough guy, walk that line for me then." Being the ultimate show off I said, "I'll do you one better, I will walk across the line doing a handstand while reciting O.C's verse in "Times Up"" She looked at her friends, they laughed and said, "Go ahead!" I got up on both hands, moved a couple of paces on my hands and started to recite the lyrics, "You lack the Minerals and Vitamins, Irons and the.." Bam!, suddenly my arms collapse, and I fall directly on my head, hard. Barbara laughed hysterically, as 3 of her friends(who I hadn't noticed were that fine until then) urgently helped me to my feet. Barbara tells me that her and her friends have a hotel room across the street, and confidently says that I will be staying with them that night. I accepted, not only because I was drunk and could have endangered others lives including my own, not only because it was late and I was also dead tired, but also because I had this strange porn fantasy of being smothered by 8 breasts, so pitching a tremendous tent in my pants(ok, not that tremendous)I agreed like any other deviant bastard would in my position. Apparently my porn fantasies were quickly dismissed as my miserable black ass fell asleep as soon as I reached the couch in their room. Fellas, you don't know frustration until you wake up 7 in the morning, surrounded by women sleeping in their underwear that you have no chance of getting to know "biblicly", because you decided to get shitfaced. So, Thank You Barbara, even though the image of half naked women and my botched opportunity will be etched in my mind forever.
Last Night A DJ saved my life: Around the time my father died I was on a destructive path of questionable women(not questionable as in "Are they actual women", but questionable as in "Are these women I should be having sex with".), criminal amounts of marijuana, and enough booze to put down a horse. Looking back at that time it is a miracle that I'm even alive, the way I used to drink and the amount of shit that I talked to any random stranger. One night I was in a bar that I frequented at the time, it was a pretty cool bar with a DJ there that I knew named Karen. I sat at the bar drinking my life away when this biker-type guy sits beside me and says, "Hey you black motherfucker, I bet you won't talk shit now!!", as he flashed his gun tucked in his belt. Apparently I had talked shit to him weeks before, but I was under such a alcohol induced haze at that time I couldn't remember. I remember not being scared, even though he had a firearm and two other bikers in tow. I said to him, "Dude, I don't want any trouble." He said, "Fuck that!", and shoves my drink off of the bar. I look at him and said, "This is not a good time for me man.", which he replied "It's the perfect time to kick your ass". I took a deep breath, stepped back, and hit him as hard as I could in his face. Enraged, I began to repeatedly slam his face against the bar, then I kick the first guy away who tried to come to his aid.(I felt like Jackie Chan and shit, albeit momentarily) Next thing I know I am squared up against all three of these guys, and the way they were looking around was like they were trying to decide whether to shoot me or not. I was fucked and I knew it, that is when I feel someone grab me from behind and take me through a backdoor I was standing near. When I turned around to see who it was I was relieved to see it was Karen. I guess the biker's thought that it was simply a backroom, but they had no idea that it lead outside where Karen's car was parked at. She said, "You were about to get killed, is that what you want??" That was one of the moments of clarity that I had concerning my destructive behavior as I said, "Yeah, that is actually what I wanted, I think." Besides the the fact that she saved me from getting killed, I was entirely too drunk to drive home in the first place. We get back to my house and talked, and she tells me how seeing me fight "turned her on", but before we had sex I warned her by saying: "I am going through a bad spot right now,this sex will probably be wack, I don't want a relationship, , and I probably won't call you." She laughed and said, "I know, no big deal". A few weeks later she had the nerve to get mad at me because the sex was wack, I didn't want a relationship, and I didn't call her. What the fuck! Anyway, thank you Karen for saving my life, even though you said the following statement a year ago: "I should have let those bikers kill your black ass, you miserable motherfucker." Ahh, Another satisfied customer.
Intoxicated at a Listening Party: I was invited to a listening party of a artist that my friend managed at the time. Even though I hadn't heard any material from the artist in question yet, I knew my friend and her taste in Hip Hop was pretty impeccable, so I knew he would be dope. I get there and they are providing free drinks, which gets a brother as hard as steel, or Pam Greer's scantily clad body in a black exploitation flick circa the 70's. But I did plan to pace myself, but being the drinks were strong as shit I felt tipsy damn near immediately. Around this time my friend's artist got on stage, and in the first 10 seconds it was evident that he was wack as hell. But then again, I should have known he was going to be wack when his name was announced, something like "MC Put a bullet-in-your-ass", or some shit like that. Frustrated, I went back to the bar and threw back a few more drinks. Even though I can sometimes suffer from verbal diarrhea, it was never my intent to talk bad about her artist, but when she came and asked for my honest opinion I drunkenly said the following: "I have heard better sounding bowel movements, that guy is horrible." She walked away dejected and I immediately regretted saying that to her, even though it was the truth. Fast forward to 1:55 when I am drunk off my ass, I see the ex-girlfriend of my friend Carlos, a girl named Marla. Marla is there on a date, the first one she had been on since she dropped my friend like a bad habit. She noticed that I was drunk and decided to not only drive me home, but make her date drive my car home. Apparently in the car I was singing Al Green songs, and incoherently telling Marla that I had a magical penis, but for some reason I couldn't tell Marla where I lived at. So Marla, not knowing what to do next, calls my boy Carlos to give her directions to my house. Keep in mind, she had just dumped Carlos so they were in that "I hate your fucking guts" period. Carlos ends up meeting his ex girlfriend that had just broken his heart, with her date in tow, to take my black ass home. In the morning I woke up tucked in my bed very neatly, not remembering what had happened the night before. The only reason I can tell this story is because Carlos told me what happened the next day, and that "I owed him big". So, thank you Marla, Carlos, and that miscellaneous date that was with Marla that night.
For Help with Alcoholism
National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism
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