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Trying to Remember, Dying to Forget By: PoisonRamune, the Apathetic Lizardman Disclaimer: In this story Rob admits to driving a car while very drunk. Though he came out ok and didn’t hurt anyone, you might not be as lucky… Think before you drink (and drive). Many of you who don’t know me in real life have been asking me to do more personal articles. While I didn’t want to turn this site into a blog site, I suppose chronicling my exploits once in awhile could be kind of fun. I guess, we’ll try this out and see how well it goes. If you guys like reading about the stupid lives of the RwN staff, perhaps we’ll do more of these. As you should know by now, I’m a damn drunk. Surprisingly, I’ve only completely forgotten the events of a drunken evening once in my entire life. I find it a bit ironic that I’m documenting a night that took various phone calls and minor detective work to piece together, but I think I’ve finally gotten all the details of the evening down. It was the fall of 2006, just before Halloween. Ron and I were heading down to our friend Eric’s house to go grab some bud. Somewhere during the 3 mile drive to Eric’s house, my radiator cracks and water vapor begins to rapidly spray out from my car. Instead of turning back or finding a nearby service station like any sane person would do; Ron and I decided that if were going to be fixing a car that night, we might as well do it while stoned. We proceeded to Eric’s house and found him on his usual perch (playing Dreamcast in his garage). Upon our arrival we were greeted by Eric with an offer to play some Marvel vs Capcom 2 and also to take a shot of absinthe. In 2006 absinthe was still illegal in California, so it was a somewhat of a special treat for Ron and I. After our first shot and a couple rounds of MvC2, the power on Eric’s side of town suddenly went out. Left in the dark with no video games or light, we then figured we could at least pass the time by preparing a couple more shots of absinthe. I need to mention this right here; absinthe does not make you hallucinate any more than any other alcoholic beverage would. In fact, in order to “trip out” on the wormwood/thujone you would pretty much need to take a lethal dose of it (and most of your hallucinations would probably be caused by the fact that you were going into shock and dying). Either way, absinthe is one of the most powerful alcoholic beverages I’ve ever imbibed (I believe we were drinking 140 proof), especially since my ulcer prevents me from drinking Bacardi 151 or Everclear vodka. But back to the story, our couple shots of the imported (smuggled) Greek absinthe soon became a near uncountable number of shots. At this point Ron and I were reeling from alcohol. Being bored without a TV or video games to play while faded, Ron and I then decide to patch up my radiator with duct tape and top it off with water for the ride home. Despite my better judgment (which is kind of a lie as we were beyond piss drunk), we leave Eric’s house and begin our 3 mile drive back home from east Rowland. On our way back, the munchies kick in at full force and we stupidly made a detour to Carl’s Jr. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but for some reason I believed the Carl’s Jr by our house (which I visit near weekly) was a Jack in the Box (the fast food restaurant, not the toy for our international readers). It was one of the more baffling trips at the drive thru as I was told they that they didn’t have many of the items I was ordering. After several minutes of confusion, I figured it best to mumble a list of semi-generic fast food stuffs and leave it in the hands of the cashier who must have been equally confused at this point. A sample of the conversation at the drive thru speaker – I learned 2 things that night, the aisle ways of a fast food drive thru seemingly become significantly narrower after drinking and duct tape doesn’t fix everything (as a famous novelty book would have you to believe). After knocking down a sign advertising some sort of fruit smoothie they had on special, we had finally made it to the cashier’s window. Though I would have been wise enough to realize my car’s situation and shut off my engine as we waited for our food, I simply didn’t. As fate would have it, it took exceptionally long to get our food, despite the fact that it was not a peak meal time. With the most hilarious timing the tape seal on my radiator burst as the cashier was about hand me our food, leaving the poor guy to be sprayed with dirty radiator fluid. The semi-wet and very shocked cashier threw the bag of food near literally onto my crotch as he frantically tried to close the window and retreat. We then head home knowing that the car is on borrowed time, as it’s losing fluid faster than before. Surprisingly, we transverse the final leg home with no incident. I choose to eat my burger outside as I wanted to check my car out once more when it cooled; and pretty much knew I would forget if I went inside my house. This part is purely based on speculation as I was pretty much alone at this point, but I gather I opened my car to sit down and hangout a bit more since the car was still a bit warm. I also suspect that I passed out from the effects of the alcohol and “food coma” as 6 hours seemingly slipped away from me. The blindingly bright sunlight and the loud, incessant roar of the neighbor’s lawn mower quickly snapped me out of my daze (see slumber). I looked around and to my shock realized I was reclining half on the street and half in my car. I was even more surprised to find that my wallet, money, car radio, and herbs were not stolen. While I’m pretty sure I didn’t trip out, I always wondered why that happened to me that night. Especially since I’ve drank way more than that on other nights and have come out perfectly fine. In the words of the green fairy on Euro Trip “This absinthe is bullshit…” Then again, maybe I did trip out.
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