So I NEVER should have made that Tuesday Night comment, but who was I to know that I actually would go out and get wasted on a random Tuesday night… this blog is slowly turning in to the diary of an alcoholic and I’m seeing it unfold right before my eyes… So last night my friend B was in town from Virginia and going to a Sox game with her friends. I hadn’t seen her all summer and I feel obligated to see people when they come to my city to visit. So I rounded up as many troops as I could … turned out the only two people dumb enough to go to the bars on a Tuesday night are me and my friend… we’ll call her Sidekick because much like my PIC she always happens to partake in my drunken activities. So we go to the trouble of getting her a fake ID and FINALLY make it to the baseball bar and find out we didn’t even need to get a fake ID because at this point the bouncers know me and don’t even bother checking for IDs. So I got to see B, it was fun and Sidekick and I both finished off two drinks before B had to go to the game. We leave the bar and are not satisfied with out level of buzzing and decide to go to the apartment I was at the other night. We get there and it’s a sausage fest for a lot of the night until some of my other friends show up but by that time I had finished off half a liter of Bacardi and was unaware of pretty much anything going on, including calling one of my best guy friends and calling his girlfriend a trashy whore and telling him never to bring his trashy whore girlfriends around any more… I still feel bad about that. For some reason I got pissed at everyone and storm out of the apartment to go to the 7-11 down the street and buy cigarettes. Side note here: the neighborhood I was partying in was not exactly what you’d call safe and I’m pretty surprised that I survived the walk by myself without getting raped, shot, killed or robbed – but I did. According to friends accounts not only did I survive but some guy with long hippie hair walked me back and I invited him up to the party, except no one wanted him there because no one knew him, including me, so he left. So the nights moving along at a slow speed, interrupted every now and then with me drunk dialing people. So finally I drunk dial my Ex. We can actually call him The Ex because he’s That Ex… you know, the one that actually meant something. So I call him and all the guys at the party sweat him for whatever reason and want me to go pick him up. So I do. This Guy accompanies me… yea we can just stick with the name This Guy because I’m not feeling to creative. So we pick up The Ex… and I vaguely recall trying to break in to a friend’s house to pick him up too but don’t quote me on that because I was pretty plastered. We get back to the apartment and This Guy decides he wants to go to 7-11 and even though I had already gone, I decide (with the promise of him buying me something when we get there) that I’ll go with him. Well, we were barely down the second block when I step in a pot hole or maybe it was a missing part of the side walk, I’m not sure, but I wrench my ankle and pretty much want to collapse it hurts so badly. This Guy helps me wobble to 7-11, buys me M&Ms and a water which is actually surprising because This Guy is usually a huge asshole. So I make it back and sufficiently bitch and moan about my ankle because it actually did hurt and was starting to swell up. Meanwhile, at some point I managed to break my camera so I’m also bitching and moaning about that as well as being a pretty obnoxious and miserable drunk. I feel bad for the people that have to deal with me. Well, The Ex had been there for a while now and was sitting in the other room by himself … not being social AT ALL. Not sure why but I remember decided to drive him and another guy home. We drop off the other guy and end up getting in a huge fight about me smoking cigarettes – why he gives a shit I’m not sure. While we’re fighting we see three guys standing in the middle of the street… it’s 4am and this is NOT normal. So we’re looking closer and I notice… it’s The Ex’s old best friend, let’s call him The Degenerate. I’m going to have to back track for a moment so that you understand the situation completely. The Degenerate and The Ex were best friends growing up and fell out of touch for a while. They fell back in touch when I was dating The Ex and were pretty tight. So, The Ex decided to go to the Bahamas for spring break and I decide to go to South Beach. Well, The Degenerate decides he wants to come to South Beach with me and long story short – we end up hooking up and dating for a while. The Ex and I were on a break at the time and he was banging some black chick during all of it so don’t go feeling sorry for him – it was pretty much payback for the shitty way he had treated me for the majority of our relationship. Anyways, needless to say The Ex and The Degenerate weren’t exactly close after that. So there… in the middle of the road… is The Degenerate and his friends. It’s 4am … WHAT THE FUCK ARE THE ODDS OF THIS??? WHY IS THIS MY LIFE!!? I drive past him and we pretty much glare at each other. I drop off The Ex and have to go back past The Degenerate to get home. I slow down, roll down my window and ask him if he needs help. “I’m all set” he mumbles The closer I look at the situation, the more it looks like they were in the process of stealing a car ”Good to see you” I told him, but I could barely keep a straight face and I pulled away. Oh, I had also taken The Degenerate to court and one point because he owed me $700, but that’s a story for another time. I ended up going back to the apartment, passing out on the couch, waking up to Sidekick moaning on the futon…realize how miserable my life has become, go back to sleep, crawl to Dunkin Donuts at 8am, call out of work AGAIN because I can barely walk and end up home passed out on my couch around 10. All in all, I’d say I’m turning in to an alcoholic.