Intoxicated Ruminations

February 2nd, 2007 - 3:00 Am - IHOP - Stone Mountain, GA

I was hungry after a late night at work so I stopped to get a Big Bacon Omelette from IHOP before heading home. I'm used to being the only one out and about at this time, so I was surprised when I saw the parking lot was full of people who had just left the club on a Thursday night. I think they were partying at The Atrium or possibly Strokers. As I waited for the 7 foot tall African hostess to bring my to-go order, I noticed that everyone seemed to be having much more fun than me and realized that I'm getting old. But that's neither here nor there. I was reading a text message on my phone when she walked in... in fact I smelled her before I saw her as she reeked of old liquor and Newports. She was about 5'5, although that could have been a result of the gold stilettos she wore. She had on a white low cut shirt and some camouflage capri pants that defied the 30 degree Atlanta weather. She sported a baseball cap that was slightly askew on her head and covered long straight blond hair. I glanced at her, noticing her alabaster skin, and then she spoke:

Black-White Girl: "For reals, yo! That bitch just threw up in my car"

I was taken aback for a second and then responded...

Me: "You talking to me?"

Black-White Girl: "Yeah, dawg! She threw up all over my window, and my jacket, and I'm out here and I'm mad cold yo!"

Me: "Who are we talking about?"

Black-White Girl: "Tina, man! She's out in the car laying in her own throw up. I need a fucking cigarette."

Me: "Word? That's messed up, Ma!" I replied and went back to pretending I was sending a text message.

I noticed her fidgeting and muttering to herself and immediately recognized the signs. The Black-White girl was drunk as hell. I can remember the days when that would have been me, minus the excessive forced Ebonics. It's been so long since I've been sloppy drunk in public, but seeing her made me flashback to those days.

November 25th, 1997 Savannah, GA

It was my 23rd birthday. Normally, 23 is not one of the big ones, but I was determined to have some fun. I was a recent college graduate with not much thought of the future besides what I was going to drink and where I was gonna get the weed from. I decided that I wasn't gonna hang with my girlfriend of three years who was home from graduate school for Thanksgiving break. (Coincidentally, that relationship didn't make it to the new year.) Instead, I met up with the fellas at Jimmy Boatwright's crib to get started on my long night of drinking and debauchery. When I got there, my two best friends, Kareem and Tori were there along with Jimmy and his brother Rashad, and some other cat, whose name escapes me. They pulled out the cheap ass Barton's gin, which was all our broke asses could afford at the time, and we started taking shots. Before I knew it, I was already tipsy. Then someone had the bright idea to mix the gin with with Sunny D. I drank cup after cup of this nasty concoction, until I was inebriated beyond belief. Then it was time to go to the club...

I don't really remember who was driving, but I know they were driving my mom's black Geo Metro towards Downtown Savannah. As was customary, blunts were rolled, we drank out of red plastic cups and freestyle raps were recited. When we finally arrived down on Broughton Street, I was so gone, that I was staggering and didn't care who knew I was drunk. In fact, I even announced my drunkenness to strangers, including a SPD officer who laughed it off. My homeboys, however, didn't see the humor in the situation and quickly shuttled me into the first club with a chance of being decent. We went to The Zoo. Wednesday nights were hip hop nights, they called it the Soul Kitchen. It was one of the only places in Savannah, a Northern ex-patriate like myself, could go to party to some East Coast music, without hearing the obligatory Master P or Mystical set. I had high hopes for the evening, as I just knew I was gonna have some fun.

As soon as I got in the club, however, I started feeling sick. The Barton's Gin started catching up with me and I had to sit down. I found a seat and lit up a Black and Mild, while waiting for the club to stop spinning. I watched the ladies dancing to Biggie and Wu Tang, but was too drunk to make my way to the floor. The next thing I know, Kareem is slapping me on my shoulder telling me to wake up. I had a beer bottle in one hand, which had spilled on my Polo jeans, and the burnt remnants of the plastic Black and Mild tip in the other hand. Who knows how long I was sleep, or for that matter, how I got the beer in first place? I just knew that getting up was not an option. I was drunk in public and I didn't care who knew.

Eventually, we left the club, although I don't remember when or how I made it to the car. I was sitting in the backseat drifting in and out of consciousness. This was the first and last time I drank to the point of passing out. I remember throwing up out the window of the car and I remember getting pulled over by the police on the highway, but it only came in flashes, like I was sitting in the dark and someone kept turning the light switch on and off. I woke up at Kareem's mother's house upstairs and with no recollection of how I got in the house, much less up the treacherous stairs. It was now Thanksgiving day, and I was still feeling the effects of the alcohol as I drove home the next morning/afternoon. I pulled up to my grandmother's house and then I noticed a bright orange streak on the side of the car. I looked a little closer and then it hit me: That was my Gin and Sunny D brightly contrasting against the black paint on the passenger side door. I scurried back to the whip and went to a car wash before anyone could see the mess I made in my mother's car. To top it off, I drank so much that my hands were shaking and I couldn't even hold a fork to eat Thanksgiving dinner. (That caused a bit of a problem at my girl's house, cuz apparently they thought I was being bougie by not eating their food. I blamed it on the flu. LOL) I think I really had alcohol poisoning that day.

February 2nd, 2007 IHOP - Stone Mountain, GA 3:15 AM

Finally, Hakeem Olajuawon's sister brought my food and I could go home. I looked up at Black-White girl and saw she was dead asleep, and drooling. I laughed to myself because I remember the days when that could have been me. Well, I wouldn't have had a grill in my mouth, but you get the point. I used to be the cat to hit the club every Wednesday - Saturday. Or do a dine and dash at the same IHOP at least once a month. Or smoke weed in the Marta station during Freaknik like it was legal. It was stupid, but I used to have fun. Am I smarter now, or just more boring? That's a rhetorical question... I'm afraid to see how some of you would answer. LOL