(no subject)
I was sticky when I woke up because I drank gin last night. I didn’t spill any on myself, I actually sweat the shit. It’s like a Gatorade commercial, but really nasty. Standing to shower gravity reminds me that I am drunk. I walk in slow motion to the JC. My body is still drunk, but my mind is trapped watching.
I’ve been drinking since Friday.
Friday I went to Kstreet with Lyn and Brian. We got free entrance, drinks and table all thanks to Ali some guy I never met. I get wasted off 60$ vodka and then come home remembering little of the night before.
Saturday morning I wake up holding the phone talking to my parents. They are nearly at the school. I reek of vodka.
I shower and brush my teeth, which are now vodka flavored. I am still very drunk. I greet my parents who are waiting and can tell I just woke up. We fix my truck finally. Map sensor, new line, and air filter. Did you know that air filers can turn so black they become mini black holes?
I start to sweat and it smells like, you guessed it, vodka. My mother just shoots me a look and says, “Eric, you stink…like vodka.” Then she shakes her head.
Not living with my parents I’ve learned to like them a lot more. They are just funny southern people who given the choice would never leave home. They hate where I live and this is why they never visit. I choose a great place to live.
They keep saying things to me and each other like, “Does any one in here speak English?”
“You know something is wrong when black and white people are out numbered in a McDonalds.”
“Chinaman.”
“Look at that (gesturing to Arab women in full garb) you know they’re hot. (Mumbling.)”
I can’t get enough of this so I take them to the faircity mall. It’s like the black people mall for Asians, Arabs, Persians, Africans, etc. Mom shops dad walks around and I just find myself saying, “You get used to it.” Nearly to everything they have to say. They also tell me to drive because they hate city driving. I am still drunk, and don't stop when breaking and hit the curb hard. My folks say woa are silent for a few seconds then dad says, "Well he's excited his mother is here visiting and his car is fixed."
Mom, "Yeah that's it."
My folks are also so friendly, it’s like I’ve taken them to another world. They hold the door for people and try to make conversation in line. Most people react with discomfort right away, and I don’t even think my parents notice.
Dad and I go in the hobby shop. They sell model trains to make dioramas. I get a complement on a shirt I’m wearing from a guy that works there. Dad just thinks he likes my shirt. Who am I to tell my father I’m getting eye fucked by some dude at the hobby shop while he’s three feet away from me looking at small fake tractors. I just say nice guy and we leave. Mom goes in another store and dad wants to look at the trains again.
The tiny trains and people modeled after a better time sooth my father. He wants to build a 50s farm, those are his favorite farms. I say I would want a pre-war farm. He asks why? As if I have said something really strange. I reply that I like the tractors and cars better. He pauses for a second and says, “Ooooooh world war two.” Then leaves it at that.
I have to know which war he is thinking about, “What war did you think I was talking about?”
In his finest southern accent, “Civil war is THE war.”
I laugh on the inside. My father on some level is still fighting against northern aggression.
We eat at Outback and our waiter does the scene from Ace Ventura when he figures out Finke is a man. When I say he does the entire think I’m not kidding, simply because the Crying Game was playing on the radio. We gave him a good tip. Every song was so strange it was all the cure, prince, and culture club. Each song change would stop our conversation because we’d have to smile and nod at each other.
My father asks the waiter, “Is the fosters you have the big one or small one?”
“It’s whatever you want man.”
My father quickly, “I’ll have the big one.”
He drinks it all before our food comes out then goes to the bathroom. When he comes out the song has changed again. While adjusting his Copenhagen belt buckle he takes in the music looking up and around, “This is nice the music selection has a little something for everyone.
I grin and mom cracks up, “Uh-huh yeah Randy why don’t you go ahead and have another beer.”
They rush home in some awkwardness. We suck at good bye and we suck at expressing our emotions. This can be best seen when I talk about getting a job or finishing school, “That’s good you’ll be done with school now you can stay in Virginia.”
Eric, “Well I’m think about New York, LA, Florida, or maybe even another country.”
Father not hearing anything I said after New York, “Don’t go to New York, enh (mumbling) stay close to home…just don’t go North.”
I could have said the moon and he wouldn’t even have noticed.
Also when talking about going to Mexico, “Why not just wait to travel, hold off for about thirty years. Then I’ll be dead and won’t have to worry.”
My mother, “You had better live longer than 30 years.”
Father sighing, “Yes dear.”
I sleep as soon as they are gone. No, not sleep really more like a waking coma. I was still awake but I couldn’t and didn’t try to move. I just rested then finally after a few hours of this drifted off to sleep.
My phone rings and it’s Chris. He says he’s with Shannon and he might be stopping by later. I say cool come on bye then return to sleep. I wake at 8ish to hang out with Christine because she wants to drink. Then I remember talking to Chris…did I dream talking to him or did it really happen.
Chris also provided any information as to when he was coming, so I had nothing to go on.
I drink with Christine until like 3 am then I start to drift off and she rolls out. It always seems like we get tried at the same time or are very aware that the other person is. I also like Christine because I have no idea what she is thinking.
No Chris I go to bed.
Sunday morning I am still drunk. Sunday afternoon sorry. I start doing school work and laundry. 4 pm Chris calls. He’s on campus and coming over. I won’t retell his story here, but lets just say we’re each having similar weekends. If you want his account bug him on his account at JohnnyRuin
We start watching Max X, a reality footage show like real tv. It is also racist. They have to translate some footage and the announcer says, “We don’t speaka da crazy language, but here is what we think he’s saying.”
Later under a Mexicans name it says, “Good foreigner, speaks English.”
Needless to say we had a good time. I take him to Front Royal then go see Kevin. He’s cool and G’ma shoots me 100$. She must have just given Gene a grand or something. I return home and go see Jenny.
After I visited I came home and slept until the phone wakes me again. It is Drunk Steve asking if I can drive. I’m pretty stoned, but I say sure. I go over and there are a bunch of people in his house. I drink very little, and just watch Steve be a madman. He also has work in like 4 hours. Finally everyone rolls out but one girl. She’s not attractive, but she’s funny. We all jump in the pool.
I drive home soaking wet then I see her on the street. I offer a ride and she shoots me a look like I’m bothering her. I ask if she’s ok and she says yes. Then I fuck with her and tell her I have candy. She’s probably terrified of me now. I come home and sleep.
Monday I get up, missed class by about 6 hours. I have to go to my night class because I have a presentation to give. I have not been to any class in a week. I have one class 4 days a week and the other 3 days a week.
I get my midterm back in class and I have 104, the highest grade in the class. I also have missed the most classes. I love college.
Christine’s birthday we drink gin. I was more drunk in the morning than I was that night. We watch Fight Club then Daria and just talk until like 6 am. I of course miss class again.
I’ve been drinking since Friday.
Friday I went to Kstreet with Lyn and Brian. We got free entrance, drinks and table all thanks to Ali some guy I never met. I get wasted off 60$ vodka and then come home remembering little of the night before.
Saturday morning I wake up holding the phone talking to my parents. They are nearly at the school. I reek of vodka.
I shower and brush my teeth, which are now vodka flavored. I am still very drunk. I greet my parents who are waiting and can tell I just woke up. We fix my truck finally. Map sensor, new line, and air filter. Did you know that air filers can turn so black they become mini black holes?
I start to sweat and it smells like, you guessed it, vodka. My mother just shoots me a look and says, “Eric, you stink…like vodka.” Then she shakes her head.
Not living with my parents I’ve learned to like them a lot more. They are just funny southern people who given the choice would never leave home. They hate where I live and this is why they never visit. I choose a great place to live.
They keep saying things to me and each other like, “Does any one in here speak English?”
“You know something is wrong when black and white people are out numbered in a McDonalds.”
“Chinaman.”
“Look at that (gesturing to Arab women in full garb) you know they’re hot. (Mumbling.)”
I can’t get enough of this so I take them to the faircity mall. It’s like the black people mall for Asians, Arabs, Persians, Africans, etc. Mom shops dad walks around and I just find myself saying, “You get used to it.” Nearly to everything they have to say. They also tell me to drive because they hate city driving. I am still drunk, and don't stop when breaking and hit the curb hard. My folks say woa are silent for a few seconds then dad says, "Well he's excited his mother is here visiting and his car is fixed."
Mom, "Yeah that's it."
My folks are also so friendly, it’s like I’ve taken them to another world. They hold the door for people and try to make conversation in line. Most people react with discomfort right away, and I don’t even think my parents notice.
Dad and I go in the hobby shop. They sell model trains to make dioramas. I get a complement on a shirt I’m wearing from a guy that works there. Dad just thinks he likes my shirt. Who am I to tell my father I’m getting eye fucked by some dude at the hobby shop while he’s three feet away from me looking at small fake tractors. I just say nice guy and we leave. Mom goes in another store and dad wants to look at the trains again.
The tiny trains and people modeled after a better time sooth my father. He wants to build a 50s farm, those are his favorite farms. I say I would want a pre-war farm. He asks why? As if I have said something really strange. I reply that I like the tractors and cars better. He pauses for a second and says, “Ooooooh world war two.” Then leaves it at that.
I have to know which war he is thinking about, “What war did you think I was talking about?”
In his finest southern accent, “Civil war is THE war.”
I laugh on the inside. My father on some level is still fighting against northern aggression.
We eat at Outback and our waiter does the scene from Ace Ventura when he figures out Finke is a man. When I say he does the entire think I’m not kidding, simply because the Crying Game was playing on the radio. We gave him a good tip. Every song was so strange it was all the cure, prince, and culture club. Each song change would stop our conversation because we’d have to smile and nod at each other.
My father asks the waiter, “Is the fosters you have the big one or small one?”
“It’s whatever you want man.”
My father quickly, “I’ll have the big one.”
He drinks it all before our food comes out then goes to the bathroom. When he comes out the song has changed again. While adjusting his Copenhagen belt buckle he takes in the music looking up and around, “This is nice the music selection has a little something for everyone.
I grin and mom cracks up, “Uh-huh yeah Randy why don’t you go ahead and have another beer.”
They rush home in some awkwardness. We suck at good bye and we suck at expressing our emotions. This can be best seen when I talk about getting a job or finishing school, “That’s good you’ll be done with school now you can stay in Virginia.”
Eric, “Well I’m think about New York, LA, Florida, or maybe even another country.”
Father not hearing anything I said after New York, “Don’t go to New York, enh (mumbling) stay close to home…just don’t go North.”
I could have said the moon and he wouldn’t even have noticed.
Also when talking about going to Mexico, “Why not just wait to travel, hold off for about thirty years. Then I’ll be dead and won’t have to worry.”
My mother, “You had better live longer than 30 years.”
Father sighing, “Yes dear.”
I sleep as soon as they are gone. No, not sleep really more like a waking coma. I was still awake but I couldn’t and didn’t try to move. I just rested then finally after a few hours of this drifted off to sleep.
My phone rings and it’s Chris. He says he’s with Shannon and he might be stopping by later. I say cool come on bye then return to sleep. I wake at 8ish to hang out with Christine because she wants to drink. Then I remember talking to Chris…did I dream talking to him or did it really happen.
Chris also provided any information as to when he was coming, so I had nothing to go on.
I drink with Christine until like 3 am then I start to drift off and she rolls out. It always seems like we get tried at the same time or are very aware that the other person is. I also like Christine because I have no idea what she is thinking.
No Chris I go to bed.
Sunday morning I am still drunk. Sunday afternoon sorry. I start doing school work and laundry. 4 pm Chris calls. He’s on campus and coming over. I won’t retell his story here, but lets just say we’re each having similar weekends. If you want his account bug him on his account at JohnnyRuin
We start watching Max X, a reality footage show like real tv. It is also racist. They have to translate some footage and the announcer says, “We don’t speaka da crazy language, but here is what we think he’s saying.”
Later under a Mexicans name it says, “Good foreigner, speaks English.”
Needless to say we had a good time. I take him to Front Royal then go see Kevin. He’s cool and G’ma shoots me 100$. She must have just given Gene a grand or something. I return home and go see Jenny.
After I visited I came home and slept until the phone wakes me again. It is Drunk Steve asking if I can drive. I’m pretty stoned, but I say sure. I go over and there are a bunch of people in his house. I drink very little, and just watch Steve be a madman. He also has work in like 4 hours. Finally everyone rolls out but one girl. She’s not attractive, but she’s funny. We all jump in the pool.
I drive home soaking wet then I see her on the street. I offer a ride and she shoots me a look like I’m bothering her. I ask if she’s ok and she says yes. Then I fuck with her and tell her I have candy. She’s probably terrified of me now. I come home and sleep.
Monday I get up, missed class by about 6 hours. I have to go to my night class because I have a presentation to give. I have not been to any class in a week. I have one class 4 days a week and the other 3 days a week.
I get my midterm back in class and I have 104, the highest grade in the class. I also have missed the most classes. I love college.
Christine’s birthday we drink gin. I was more drunk in the morning than I was that night. We watch Fight Club then Daria and just talk until like 6 am. I of course miss class again.