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Functional Alcoholism

My swinging Sunday night

I don’t really think that it’s too much to ask that if you go out with one of your good friends (and sorority sister at that) that you could maybe tear yourself away from the ugly guys you’re throwing yourself at for two seconds to take care of her when she spend the better part of your night out, curled up in a porta-potty puking her guts out, no?

Maybe it’s just me, but I would hope that you’d have the sense to do something, or at least call someone else to help you out if you’re unable to, although ramming your tongue down some guys throat isn’t exactly a viable definition of ‘busy’ or ‘unable to’.

Granted she did call and apologize for being an ass the next morning, but still.


On Sunday night, two of my sorority sisters went out to see KR’s friend perform at some sort of Capital Ex kickoff-type party. On their way out of the house, I told them to let me know if they were planning on doing something fun afterwards, because I had no desire to go to the bar they would be at.

I didn’t really expect a call because TC had been mad at me earlier, but sure enough sometime after 10:30pm I get a call from a very drunk TC telling me to get ready because the party was very lame and she wanted to have some fun, she promised to call back and half an hour later I was still waiting for that phone call.

I called her back, only to speak to KR (it was KR’s phone because TC had left hers at home) but I could barely hear her – it sounded like she was right in front of a speaker. She said she’d call me back, again no phone call. At this point, I’m slightly tipsy because I’ve started gettting ready to go out, so I call her back and tell her to go somewhere where she can hear me so that we can chat.

‘Where’s TC?’ I asked, mildly concerned. All I had caught about her whereabouts from our previous conversation was that she was passed out somewhere.

‘Oh, she’s passed out in a bathroom stall’ came KR’s blase response.

‘What? For how long?’

‘A while, she’s locked herself in there and won’t come out’

‘Are you serious? I’m coming over there. I’ll take her home’

‘OK, I’ll see you later then’

I managed to catch one of the last trains downtown from our house and got off right in front of the bar where they were but it looked deserted. ‘Where are you guys?’ I asked when KR picked up her phone. ‘We’re at The Bank’ we’re just behind the bar in a tent. Come around the corner’

KR led me to TC and then went back out to rejoin her friends and give us some time alone. TC refused to leave with me, I told her that I was staying all night if it came down to it, and that it was in her best interests to come home with me. After roughly an hour of cajoling she finally emerged from the bathroom.

I had discovered an abandoned tub of beer earlier in the night, so I was entertaining myself by drinking as much of it as I could in a short span of time while idly waiting outside the washroom for her.

We cabbed it home and TC graciously offered to pay for it, but since I’m not a total asshole, I declined (however, if I had been picking her up on the West End, my answer might have changed).

Then TC decided that she was so tired that she’d jsut sleep on the front steps. ‘Uh, are you sure? What will the neighbours think?’

‘I’m fine, get me a blanket. I’m cold’

‘We could just go inside…’

‘No, I’m fine!’ came her increasingly irate slurred speech.

‘Do you want water? I’ll get you some water’

‘No, I’m fine!’

‘I brought you water…’

‘No, I’m fine! I don’t want water…do you have a straw?’

After letting her sleep it off on the steps for about half an hour I eventually convinced her that sleeping inside was a swell idea, which was for the best since it rained hours later – although in retrospect, that probably would have taught her a valuable lesson…


About Nico

I'm not angry all the time, that's just how my face is.


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