In most cases, these types of behaviour are clear signs of a mid-life crisis ... except in my case where they are neither recent nor out of character.
Last night we went to a local potato bar. It advertised unlimited food and drinks (cocktails, wine, beer, you name it) for the equivalent of $14 USD.
The food was a little limited but the drinks flowed freely as promised. An empty stomach and lots of wine does not produce my best behaviours, especially the cheap white that I was knocking back like Gatorade. As I handed my money to the demanding waitress ("Pay Money Now!"), I realised that my night had become riddled with potential hazards.
R happened to be carrying valium (now that I've hooked him on it he never leaves home without it) and offered me one when I was half tanked. To state the obvious, this was not a good move.
In case you don't know, Valium is a major muscle relaxant and makes the alcohol absorb quickly and deeply. So you just end up getting unexpectedly unpredictably drunk.
At about 11pm me and my best friends (whose names I now forget) bundled ourselves into a cab and headed off to see this guy, who was in playing in Hanoi for one night only.
I've spent today piecing the night back together. My flashbacks produced:
1. Lots of silly silly chat. I think I trapped a couple of people into quite boring conversations. It wasn't all one sided but I wouldn't let them go.
2. Spilling a drink on R. He laughed, I laughed; all signs of encouragement.
3. Accusing an Israeli of being a spy. (Not a good idea when you really do think he's a spy.) And based on our conversation I'm still sure he's up to something fishy.
4. Jumping up on stage and "getting involved" in the performance. This involved cramming in the middle of a very young ecstasy herd and jumping up and down with them. It included me convincing R to quickly grab the performers arse, just to see if he could. It was innocent, but unnecessary, so he did.
5. Asking R to give me a lift home long before it had ended. Unlike him, I know when it's time to bail.
6. Arriving at the venue with half a glass of wine in my hand and leaving with half a glass of vodka.
7. Insisting on R letting me use his helmet. Safety first:
Me: "If we have an accident it will be your fault so it's only fair that you're the one who dies, right?"
R: "Absolutely. I completely agree. Here."
8. Spilling the remainder of my drink on R while riding home. This time it was deliberate. He laughed. I laughed. When comedy is brilliant it doesn't date and it's funny every time. So I guess that deliberatly spilling drinks onto people who are giving you a lift home is comedic brilliance.
9. This flashback came to me on Skype:
R: "i just bought a new helmet"
R: "do you remember what happened to my last helmet?"
Me: "oh. wait ..."
Me: "umm ... yes. yes i do."
We were riding over the bridge on the way home. At some point, I removed the helmet and tossed it over the side while shouting out something about schackles and freedom. I think Ghandi may have even been mentioned. Possibly Aung San Suu Kyi. (Although my mind had abandoned me, it was kind enough to leave a few metaphors behind.)
I would have apologised if it hadn't been all R's fault. Which it was. I am the school kid with the slingshot in his back pocket ... preyed on by drug dealers lurking around the school gates ... asking my name and telling me that "just one" will make me cool.
I don't remember getting home but the door was locked (from the inside) when I got up. This is a very good sign. Relative to what the security guard must now think of me, it's excellent.
Speaking of relative, I'm sure that Cheesel is reading this and fretting more than this. No need, old girl. I'm on the path to righteousness
It's not how you fall. It's how you get up. Today's new rules are as follows:
a) Valium is not allowed to leave the house. She is grounded.
b) R's valium is also grounded.
c) I have committed to stop drink driving.
d) R has committed to try to stop drink driving.
I am finally becoming perfect and these are my first steps.
