A story of confession

[TheDrunkardAnglo]

“How’s your head?” she asked in condemnation. “It’s okay. My favourite shirt is ruined” I replied. “You owe Chloe an apology!”
“Why? What did I say?”
“It’s not what you said? You grabbed her around the neck”
‘Fuck’ I thought… “John, Johns friends and her tried to grab me last night.”
“That’s because they didn’t want you to get hit by a car”
“That’s the problem with do-gooders. They always believe what they are doing is right. It isn’t! This mess wouldn’t have happened if they did not attempt to restrict my movements”.
“Just apologise and it will be forgotten about”
I did.

I’ve always considered myself a relatively reasonable and cheerful drunk. Though on this night. Christmas Eve. I did something that I believed I was incapable of doing. Grabbing, possibly choking a woman. Or anyone for that matter. Whenever I’ve been asked about any form of violence from scraps in a club to sporting events my response has always been “I like to stand back at a distance and heckle witty and spontaneous abuse”. Then suddenly I’ve been told that I have committed an act of violence against a girl, my brother’s girlfriend to be exact, who I happen to actually like. She’s a good person.

So this is what happened in all of its gory details.

I went to a family friend’s party.

“How are you Herman?” they said as I came through the door “how’s the whisky?” I smiled walked through engaged in pleasantries. Social situations undrunk are simply unseemly. Went into the laundry room where the liquor was kept. Picked up several beers and walked into the kitchen to drink and socialise.

There we go. I’ve reached the moment.

I strutted with confidence up to my favourite people, one of them Dan, a great guy about seven or eight years older than me. Quite a character. At his brothers birthday he was in trouble for sleeping with his sister’s best friend and his sister-in-law’s bridesmade. I made some witty remarks at how he has been a very naughty boy and how he shouldn’t shit in the bed then moved on.

Before I know it my cousin’s husband and Father Herman shouted over at me. The whisky was coming out. Dan came over. One glass, two glasses, three glasses.

Dan then shouts “beer pong!”

Now I hate drinking games, but I felt compelled to engage. This wasn’t beer pong in the usual sense. Those plastic red cups, just like in the American movies, were not just filled with beer. Cheap white wine and disaronno were also in these cups. It was me against Dan.

He threw first got it straight in.

I knocked it back without any complaint.

Then I told him “you’re going to be my bitch”

He replied with the usual “Ooooooooooooo that’s fighting talk”

I threw it bounced clearly on the kitchen counter and went in”.

He threw it and missed.

And my subsequent shots went in.

It was down to his last one. There was pressure. The crowd starting swarming around me. It was like I was revolutionary in 19th century Dresden. Waving the flag of the German Confederation. For this brief moment I was Henry V at the battle of Agincourt. I breathed the crowd hushed. I threw the ping pong ball it bounced and landed squarely in the cup. I raised my hands in victory.

I then subsequently went up to Dan. Pulled the pocket from my trousers, indicating what happens in so many of those American prison movies and insinuated that he was my bitch now. He being the decent chap took it all in good jest.

A team version of a likewise “beer” pong game happened. My cousin’s husband and Dan asked for me to join the team. We won. The party continued.

Between Father Herman, the Husband, Dan and myself we finished the bottle and went for another.

Then we hit it. Kick out time.

As I was driven home I had asked to be dropped out at a local but busy pub. Not really a good one but the nearest. I went up to the bouncer. He asked for my Id, due to my babyface. Fuck I had left it at home. He then suggested that I bribe him. I walked home collected my ID and walked back.

I don’t know why I did this but I had decided to walk in the road. At the edge admittedly I’m not suicidal. I suppose I wanted someone to take pity on me and give me a lift there. Surprisingly enough A lovely girl in what I remember to be a grey, perhaps red Volkswagen Polo slowed up to me. She pressed the window down. Asked if I was ok. Then asked if I needed a ride somewhere. I said “that’s very kind of you. Would you mind?” she told me to come in. I then directed her to the pub, which in the car was under a minute away. I said thank you, got out and went up to the same bouncer to let me in.

Then I was stopped by John, Johns friends and Chloe. From what I remember of the incident they grabbed me and started wrestling me to the floor and in response I pushed Chloe away and told them to “fuck off”. Bellowing “I don’t need you here”.

I’m not sure what happened next, but I remember walking through my door slipping over hitting my head. With blood coming from the wound ruining the collar of my shirt. I remember them talking amongst themselves “I’ll call the ambulance”. I laughed and said “it’s nothing, lets not make a drama out of this” as I touched my wound to see the blood which was now in abundance and crawled up to bed. I got into bed with blood flowing freely and then vomited.
That’s what happened. Not my finest moment.

Alcohol is my best friend and yet my mortal enemy. I deplore my actions on that night, but equally I believe that I should have been left alone.

Am I an alcoholic? Probably. Should I stop drinking? No. Why would I even conceive such a thing? I have taken more from Alcohol than it could ever possibly take from me. This shameful event is nothing compared to the countless joy I have received.

[AntonArkydivich]

Gotta be careful with the head blow and vomit.

I smashed my head in, blacked out, was fine for an hour, and then lost my balance and had to crawl for an hour. Now I have a sleepwalking problem.

Brain injuries aren't fun. Good thing alcohol inhibits cranial swelling.

[TheDrunkardAnglo]

I think I just gave myself a concussion and one hell of a metaphysical hangover on Christmas day.

[oldsmartskunk]

What a nice story matey. We've all been there (at least i was) as far as head injuries/puking goes. Did my friends sister, but it was more like she raped me. Got into quarrels with assholes when i should have ignored them. Some stuff i am not proud of. Then again are we proud of everything what we did undrunk? Hell no! Life is social fellatio roller coaster. Say sorry to those who were wronged. And keep drinking. I will. As i do right now. Cheers!

[oettinger]

Cool story, thanks for sharing.
And don`t mind the brain damage, if it`s really serious you will notice later when it`s up anyway

[Patchez]

You Sir are 100% right. Had the "rescuers" left you alone... and allowed you to enter the bar.. their twisted conscience would have been absolved by watching a grown ass adult allow you to enter a drinking establishment. you get drunk and they feel good about themselves.

[Tarcek]

For future reference, if you end up wrestling on the floor, bear-hug his chest/waist and bury your face in his chest. Do NOTHING, and wait for him to get tired.
It's easier than trying to win.

As for the rest, i think we've all been there. I certainly have - You're wise to realize that it's you, and not some alcohol fiend that made all of this happen. If you're ashamed of your actions, you're less likely to repeat your mistakes.

We have to accept a little bit of the bad, in return for all the good it brings us - This is much the same as handling a hangover, except the ego is harder to mend.
Keep fighting the good fight, soldier.

[mistah willies]

^ ^ ^

Sage Advice. The whole of it. I'll buy the next round.