The personal struggles before joining the military ( Book Series)
We all go through our own personal, unique struggles in the exciting yet uncertain times of our young lives. In the current book I'm writing, which seems like I'll never finish, I describe many of my hardships as a young man trying to figure out my life.
The book titled The Spaces in Between documents the challenges I faced during my early childhood and into my early twenties.
The thing is, my life has always been good. After putting all things into perspective at the present time, I know I have, and currently am, very fortunate. But, try telling this to me when I was younger!
I don't know what will become of this book, but I'm glad I could document memories from my early life and combat control training into something I can pass along in the future. I like trying to be creative, so I put fiction parts about things obviously not true, like flying through the solar system to Jupiter's moon, Europa.
This is taken from a part of the book that describes me in college trying to make the commitment to join the Air Force and train to be a combat controller. I was on the verge of making the decision to actually do it, although it was very hard to pull the trigger.
It's also fun to look back and reflect on who I was, what my mindset was, and how I saw the world back then. A lot of it isn't pretty, but it is what it is. This was back when alcohol had a strong grip on my life, and I quickly became from someone who didn't drink, to someone on the verge of major problems.
Anyway, hope you enjoy the read.
Chapter 6 TOO COLD AT HOME
It’s too hot to fish, and too hot for golf,
and too cold at home
-Mark Chestnutt
It wasn’t my forever home, but for me,it was perfect.
It became known as three two five,
the address, by my new roommate and friend Dan.
At the time, three three two five had what
I needed. It was an old house on Tennessee BLVD,
and about a 5 minute drive from Middle Tennessee
State University. Dan referred to the street
name as Paper Street, referencing the movie Figt
Club.
The rent was cheap, about 600 dollars a month.
Split three ways, it left me with 200 dollars a month
for
rent. For me, that was perfect. The ability to load
trailers
in the evening at FedEx, about a 45 minute
commute each way, in the evenings, left me the
ability to take full time classes in the mornings.
I went all the way to the north side of Nashville
to do the back breaking work of loading 53’ trailers,
about 4 hours a night.
Hardly worth the drive, it did provide tuition
assistance, medical benefits,
and enough money to survive.
I went from a nice, well kept home, to a house that was on the verge of being condemned. A two story house built in the 1940’s, which seemed like it would have been a nice family home with three bedrooms, original hardwood floors, and a basement with a dirt floor ( the laundry room). At one time, it was a well built red brick home, but over the years, it was owned by a slum lord who was reportedly addicted to crack. It could have been a college rumor, yet it made sense with the state of the house’s condition. It was close to the condition of the old abandoned house where the narrator went to hit rock bottom in Fight Club. The maintenance and upkeep had been ignored for many years, leaving cold drafts in the winter, and it was nearly impossible to keep cool in the summer. I didn’t care; it was perfect.
Living on Paper Street felt like I’d actually made it. I had a place to stay, do whatever I wanted, and not have to live under my father’s roof.
“ Hey Dirty, welcome to Paper Street Brotha”, Dan said, as I held a beer in my hand and gazed around at our new house. Dan, who I met the first time I’d ever drank beer, at a New Year’s Eve party a few months before, had become my best friend. Now, having a few beers with him was a daily ritual for me.
Dan was a quick witted, smart guy who resembled John Lennon. When I first met him, he had really long hair, but cut it shorter around the time we moved into the house. He was pretty thin and a couple
inches taller than me. With his short, brown hair, he resembled the typical computer science major at the college. He dressed similar to me, wearing T- shirts most of the time, and he wore the occasional polo shirt when we went out.
I stared up at the old cabinets, the largest cabinets I'd ever seen in my life, with paint chipping off exposing the original wood underneath. The top cabinets were far out of reach. It was like the house was built for giants, which seemed confusing to me because I thought people were smaller in the 40’s and 50’s.
“ Damn Dirty, you’re living like a king with these big ass cabinets”, Dan said. He always made a point to throw compliments my way. His nickname for me came from the hip hop songs popular at the time. The nickname stuck after he shouted, ‘ hey Dirty, let me holla at ya!”, more than a few times
“ Damn, this would bring a tear to a glass eye,” Dan said, checking my reaction.
I laughed at his wit. Most people missed his quick humor. I had the same issue, and our humor brought us close in our friendship.
“ I can’t believe I’ve finally got a place of my own”, I said. My excitement was just setting in. I’d always known I’d enjoy life outside of the rule of my father.
“ A couple of gats, a couple of knives, a couple of wives. It’s whatever you want, Dirty”, Dan said, holding his hands out like I’d just won the lottery. It was another quote from a rap song, but it was timed just right.
“ It needs a little work,” I said. I grabbed the beer off the counter and chugged it. The beer buzz became associated with good times and the feeling of people getting to know me; it was associated with people actually liking who I was. I’d developed a solid drinking habit immediately after moving from home.
Dan cracked open a beer, all the sudden an avid beer drinker himself, and opened the old refrigerator for another beer. He cracked the second beer open and held them both in his hands. " You gotta double fist at 325, brotha."
I laughed. I liked when Dan began to drink; it made me comfortable to drink more and act a little crazy. By that time, my identity was the " crazy" guy when I drank. I liked the attention. Drinking was new to Dan and I because we both had a somewhat sheltered upbringing, but he often became my voice of reason when I went too far.
The door to the kitchen opened and our other roommate, Brian, walked in.
" What are you two drunk asses doing?", he asked.
Brian was dressed in nice, name brand clothes. He had on a green polo shirt and jeans with his signature Abercrombie hat pulled down just above his eyes.
Dan had already caught a good buzz from the beer.
" Where's the party at, Primetime?" , Dan asked.
It was another nickname Dan made up for Brian.
Brian was pretty good at basketball, better than
Dan and I, and the nickname stuck after Dan used it
so many times.
" I guess the party's here", Brian said.
He was a good looking guy who always had a
girlfriend,
and he was past the initial party phase of his life; he
was just way more experienced than Dan and I.
His childhood was vastly different from ours.
He grew up relatively poor His mother died of an
aneurysm while he was young and home with her.
His father remarried, but was constantly asking Brian
for money.
Brian got married right after high school and was
already divorced himself. He worked full time in the
evenings, while he went to school full time in
the mornings.
He would drink more than Dan and I and quickly
catch
up after work with his beer bong. He never
seemed too
drunk; he only occasionally passed out in his truck
bed in the early morning hours.
" Are you two fools already drunk?" , Brian asked.
Dan threw his hands in the air, his face already
flushed
from the beer, " look at this place; It's the best dump
on the street. Three two five, brother."
" I guess", Brian said. His full lips produced
a smile.
“ You’re gonna get more butts than ash trays
living here, man.”
“ I guess”, Brian said. He humored Dan,
even though he
seemed a bit annoyed. He had just completed a
full day of
classes. He had to work an eight hour shift starting
at 4:30 p.m.
It was going to be another long day for him. He
always
seemed to be in a half asleep state, but he was
always ready to hang out after work, and it was Friday.
“ What are we doing tonight?”, Brain asked.
“ How about the strip club, player?” Dan said.
He always joked about that because the first night
we met Brian, we ended up going to a strip club.
It was the first time Dan or I had ever been to one.
In a way, we both looked up to Brian for being a
little more experienced in life.
“ It don’t matter, just don’t bite it”, Brain said.
Dan laughed. “ Y’all wanna go downtown tonight, or
just hang out in lame ass Murfreesboro?”
“ I’m down with Cashville. What about you,
Dirty?”, Dan asked.
“ Sounds good to me”, I said. I grabbed
another beer, as I thought of the excitement of being in
downtown Nashville, drinking, and listening to all the country music in the bars on 2nd Avenue.
“ Yall wanna meet me down there?”, Brian asked. He worked halfway between Nashville and Murfreesboro, so it made sense.
Dan and I were never the best with directions, and Brian always did all the driving when we drank, no matter how much.
“ Yeah, we can do that” , Dan said, as he briefly jumped into responsible mode. I’m gonna have to cool it on the drinks, if I’m gonna drive down there. He knew I probably wouldn’t drive that far while drinking; Brian had way more experience driving drunk. He was our drunk driver most of the time we went out, especially to Nashville.
“ Don’t be a pussy”, Brian said in a funny voice.
“ Dan, do you have a GPS?” I asked, already planning on getting lost.
“ No, but I have a GED”, Dan replied.
Brian and I both laughed. I downed another beer. I planned on drinking the rest of the night.
"These walls are solid, I think they're plaster. This shit's like concrete", I said, as I tapped on the hard wall.
Brian looked down at the vinyl on the kitchen floor, white and black checkered patterns, but the white had turned to tan with the stained dirt on it. “ This place is ridiculous”, Brian said. His cheeks were red, but they seemed to always be that way. He looked younger than early twenties, and the little patches he grew on his baby face didn't make him look any older.
“ I mean, the house is a little rough, but it’s virtually indestructible”, I said. I grabbed Dan’s old 10 speed bicycle that was parked inside the kitchen and hopped on it. The house made a loop, so I rode through the living room along the scuffed hardwood floors and back around into the kitchen.
“ Whatever, dude”, Brian said. He shook his head and smiled looking around the house. The house was ghetto compared to the nice apartments he lived in before. “ Alright, I’m gonna get ready for work. Y'all don’t get too wasted.”
“ Damn Brian, I hate you gotta work so much”, Dan said.
“ It’s cool, I’ll catch up with you two tonight if you're not dead.”
A few minutes later Brian backed out of the driveway in his red Ford Ranger with the latest hip hop songs blaring through the half open, tinted windows; the treble all the way up,and the bass turned down. I heard the squeal of his tires as he accelerated away to work an overtime shift on a Saturday night.
Even with the condition of the old house, I appreciated what it provided me. As I stood in the kitchen with Dan, I looked around 325 like a new home owner. I felt free, yet I still felt a lot of anxiety about taking college courses. I already fell back into my old habits of zoning out in class, and scrambling to cheat or guess at tests and homework. I still felt a little trapped because my father was still helping me pay for school, while I went wild being out of his home. Drinking became my support, but in between brief periods of relief, I nursed wicked hangovers and periods of depression, and the lows seemed much lower than they ever were before.
Alone in the house, Dan and I felt very comfortable together. He was the only friend I'd gotten close to since I knew Jason.
I'd not spoken to Jason much since I started college, and as I watched my new friend Brian already have a few girlfriends since I met him, I still strived to establish a normal relationship with women. My only goal, at the time, was to have a girlfriend; I just wanted to be normal.
The last thing I'd heard about Jason was he had a serious girlfriend, like he always did. I decided to get my life together, hopefully find a girl from the sea of options at MTSU, and catch up with him in a few years. It was typical procrastination; I'd had experience putting off things like: finding out what I want to major in, and getting a good paying job, so I could be fully independent. But at that time, it was time to drink and hang out with Dan in my new house.
I looked at the counter and saw Brian's handle of Jim Beam, his favorite,, and gave into my impulse to take a shot. The shot burned going down, but the wave of adrenaline and euphoria was almost instant because I was already buzzed from the beer. I poured another large helping into a glass with a splash of Coke. Brian's voice popped into my head. " Down in one, down in one."
I heard the faint strum of a guitar coming from the back deck. Dan had already sat down on one of the old plastic patio chairs, without the cushions, and was strumming the chords to a Smashing Pumpkins song. I grabbed my acoustic guitar and went out to the back deck to join him.
On the cool, clear, autumn day, the sky was pure blue. The view from the deck wasn't great with an old,small two car garage full of junk from previous tenants, the rumble of cars from the busy street in the front on Paper Street, and a deck with rotting wood( which needed to be replaced 10 years before), yet there was no other place I wanted to be. Not only did I have a friend again, I had a place to be myself and do what I wanted.
When I drank, I loved music, but I loved playing it even more. It was a passion I shared with Dan. Our interest and love of music was the same. I heard him singing along with the guitar chords. Along with playing the guitar, he sang well too.
When I opened the back door, he stopped. " What are you sippin on Dirty?"
" I'm having a sasparilla", I said, doing my best John Baugh impersonation.
" Oh hell no. I guess that's cool", Dan shot back, doing an impression of Brian. We were both good at doing impressions and picking up on mannerisms of people we knew. Sometimes we would just have conversations in other people's voices just for fun.
"Where's the party at?", I asked, again another impression of Brian.
"I guess at Paper Street. What are you thinking?" Dan strummed the guitar as he spoke.
" I don't know. Do you feel like going down to Nashville tonight?"
Dan didn't react the way I hoped; his beer buzz had already faded. "Shit, I don't know man. I'm already tired from those beers. Brian's crazy working until midnight and then going downtown."
I tried not to seem disappointed. "Yeah, we don't have to go down there. We can just go to Chili's later and grab some drinks."
" Yeah that's cool", Dan said.
Relieved a little that we would at least go out, I sat down and began strumming an Alice in Chains song. I'll call Brian and let him know", I said.
" He may just be hanging out with ole girl" Dan said, using Brian's nickname for his girlfriends.
" Yeah maybe", I said trying to hide my jealous tone. " He'll catch up when he gets here".
"Down in one! Down in one! Fuck it!", Dan said, with Brian's voice.
As I continued to strum the chords to the grunge song I'd practiced so many times, I played it exactly like the live version, Dan began playing along with the lead guitar parts. The acoustic guitars came together into the 90's rock sound, so I began to sing. Although the drinks helped me get into the mood to
play music, playing with Dan made me happy. With my ability to imitate sounds and people, I was able to produce some of my favorite singer's voices almost identically; that day, it was the late Layne Stayley. We both could get lost for hours playing some of our favorite rock music. Even though we were both good enough to play in front of an audience, we rarely did.
The sound of the guitars and our voices filled the late afternoon air; the crisp, cool day on the back deck was filled with music about depression and hopelessness. The abstract lyrics, which soothed my soul, were the same as the old country songs my father liked, but they sounded way better to me. The lyrics weren't as direct, but they described how I felt about life.
After playing an Oasis song, which Dan sang, we paused. " Damn, I'm getting hungry dude."
I wasn't ready to eat yet. I knew it would kill my strong buzz from the bourbon. " We can go get some drinks and some food, if you want", I said, but I wanted to down one more drink before we left. " You want a beer, man?", I said, trying to ignite Dan back into a drinking mood.
" I'm gonna have one of those saperillas, son. Pass the cavasia, playboy."
" Hell yeah, down in one!", I shouted. I jumped up, knocking over my guitar, but barely noticed.
" Easy killa", Dan said. I laughed and followed him into the house. My mood was lifted because if Dan had bailed on me, I'd be getting drunk alone.
As we made our way to our favorite first stop for a night out drinking, Weezer's song, say it ain't so, was playing on the stereo in Dan's Ford Explorer. I turned up the radio and sang with the lyrics.
"Say it ain't so!", I sang. I was looking for a compliment on my voice, Dan was usually generous with compliments, but never when I was looking for them.
Dan reached for the radio knob and turned it down. "Damn, I'm a little twisted already.
" Yeah that whiskey's working, dude. " The catchphrase made Dan chuckle. " I may need to slow my roll until I eat. I don't know. "
I was ready to have a few Jack and Cokes before I wanted to eat. Dan was a little more sensible.
" I'm hoping to get some food, look at all the broads, and just chill out", I said
" Yeah I'm all about seeing some chicks. I'm tired of the sausage fests at all these parties", Dan said.
Yeah, you go to a party, and it's every swinging dick in Murfreesboro, and like… two girls", I said.
Dan laughed. He liked my humor; I knew it came out more when I drank, which is what started, and kept my drinking habit, but I was past the line where I'd already had too much. But I had no plans to slow down.
Inside the bar area at Chilis, the atmosphere was just how I liked it. Lots of people were sitting around and drinking. It was two for one happy hour, so a couple of Jack and Cokes were in front of me in a matter of minutes. I was already starting to feel drunk, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to reach a point that I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted my inhibitions so low, I’d be able to get over my shyness, be myself, and sweep some broad off her feet, but if not, I’d be able to enjoy my mind slowed down for a while. I’d had no such luck so far; the night would get hazy and I’d forget random parts of the night. Then I’d lay down with the room spinning and regret going so far. But that wasn’t on my mind as I downed drinks in the bar area, looking at beautiful chicks. I needed the noise and the distractions of being out.
As Dan was working on his Jack and Sprites, while munching on the free chips, I continued to chase the perfect feeling. I wasn't sure what it was, but I wasn't there yet .
Tons of beautiful girls were in the bar area. While some had boyfriends, most of them were probably just out with friends for a good time. It may have been a time for them to forget about men and just be with the girls; it was another excuse for me not to bother them. I'd feel awkward interrupting a girls' night out, I thought.
" Damn that girl looks awesome", I said, nodding my head in the direction of a beautiful blonde girl
waiting for a drink at the bar.
" Yeah she does", Dan said. A guy with a hat on backwards and a thin, trimmed beard came over to help her bring the drinks back to the table.
"Damn, never mind", I said. I watched the guy laugh with the girl and walk back to their table. I wanted to physically hurt him. The alcohol had amplified my hate and confusion with the college scene.
Dan turned his attention to the guy. " Yeah, I don't know what these chicks are thinking, dude. It's like they're not thinking straight."
" I should just take the guy out back and beat his ass", I said. I finished off the last of the first drink, and glared at the guy. Like he could feel me watching him, he looked at me. I gave him a cold, empty stare. He returned the stare, but then looked away.
"What a gaff", Dan said, using Brian’s term for an ugly person.
" Guess I need to be a gaff to get women."
"She's probably like everyone else around here, having her head in the sand. I think I'm the odd man out", Dan said.
As the night progressed, so did my drinking. Another round was on the way, and I was in a position to talk about things rarely considered when my mind was sober. My increasing urge to join the military had returned after being notified of my academic probation. Apparently even if you pay a lot of money, the school would kick you out if your grade point average was below a 2.0 GPA.
“ I’ve been looking into joining the Air Force'', I said. The special ops group is pretty badass, and I don’t have to sign up for a bullshit job first, like I do in the Navy.``
Dan knew my history, how I walked out of the Navy processing me into the military during high school, and all about the Navy SEALs. I could tell he thought special forces were cool, but we were in college, not the type of guys that would actually join the military.
“ I think the SEALS and stuff are cool. I don’t know… I just wish you didn’t have to sign your life away to try it.” Dan’s cheeks were flushed, so I could tell he was loosened up from the drinks, so I knew we could actually have a discussion about the military. I cared a lot about what he thought, but sober, we usually just joked around and laughed. The introspective talks we had while we drank were the moments I looked forward to the most.
“ I’m not worried about failing out.” I knew that was a lie, and it was the main reason I’d never signed up yet, yet I wanted to hear Dan’s response.
“ It’s definitely very respectable. I know the training looks fun, but I wouldn't want to see you hurt, or even killed.”
“ I’d be fine, man. They train you for anything you could think of. I’d be like James Bond.”
Dan didn’t laugh. “ They don’t pay you shit for what you’d be doing; they should pay those guys a lot.”
I looked around at the bar scene. I saw groups of people who were the same, with only slight variations. They all seemed like templates, as they had perfect groups to fit into, but I felt out of place. Even with Dan and Brian, who I related to, I felt I was the odd man out. “I don’t care about the pay, Dan. They’ll pay for me to travel, feed me, and teach me stuff I could use for a job later.”
Dan downed his second Jack and Sprite. “ I think it’s cool, but it’s a big commitment.”
“ I’ve got nothing to lose, man.” I still have no fucking idea what I want to do. I’ve switched my major around, but now that I’m in the core business classes, I’m failing.”
“ You and Brian are the hardest working guys I know, Dirty”, Dan responded. You don’t have to do the college thing. What about something like your dad does? You know all about cars, and you’re pretty handy.”
“ Dude, honestly I don’t think I could live around my dad; it’d drive me nuts. I don’t know enough about learning a trade, and I have zero money. I’m a broke ass who’s about to fail out of college. You’re gonna graduate and get a good job where you are part time at the credit union doing computer stuff. Brian is doing well… hell, even the dumb ass roommates I used to live with are gonna graduate and get a degree. And… Well, look at them! They are idiots! I must be missing that part of my brain, I don’t know.”
“ Man, if I could, I’d hire you and Brian. You both are hard workers-” Dan paused and looked around at all the young people in the bar area, which had gotten crowded during our conversation. “ Most of these people don’t even work, have student loans, and have the time to focus on their school.” Dan seemed sincere as he spoke.
“ Well, I have time too. I just don’t do it. I barely
make any money breaking my back at FED EX.
I still owe you rent from last month” I said. “ I can’t
even make 200 dollars a month in rent.”
My mind was running slower, which felt like a relief,
but the thoughts of resentment from my childhood
were surfacing. Thoughts of anger and
revenge came alive, as I saw all the young
adults mingling in the bar and having the time of
their life. The memories of my father, John,
and the kids at my high school appeared in my head
and taunted me. “ Where’s ole girl?” I asked,looking around for our server.
Dan was quick to pick up on my spiraling mood,
so instead of trying to convince me to cheer up, he tried to keep the mood light.
Our food arrived, making Dan’s eyes widen
with delight. “ Come to Butthead”, he said, making the server and I laugh.
“ Can I get two more of these?” I asked.
“ Damn Dirty, you’re gonna be crawling outta here.”
“ Yeah, I hope so”, I said, slamming the table.
Woooh!”, I shouted, making the bar go quiet for a couple of seconds.
Dan laughed. “ They don’t know what to think about you, Dirty.”
“ Fuck it!” I shouted ,even louder. The bar went quiet again. We both laughed.
Dan ordered another round for himself as the loud
bar scene came to life around us. We sat silent, munched
on our food, and just watched the everyone around us
socialize, our normal routine at any social gathering
I saw the guy sitting at the table with the
beautiful girl I noticed at the bar earlier. His hat was
turned to the side since he started happy hour. “
I just want to walk over and turn that gaff’s hat straight”, I said.
“ He’s the type of guy that’d get stabbed in a shootout”, Dan said.
His words hit me, and made me laugh out loud.
“ He’d walk out and say, ‘ what the fuck happened?
I’m all cut up!” Dan’s humor kept me from spinning down a bad road with the alcohol.
Dan got a call on his phone. “ Hey Primetime, what’s up dude? He listened for a moment, as he
“ What’s Brian doing in town?”, I asked.
“ Dan choked down his food. “ He got off early. I’m glad because he works too much.” Dan did an impression of Brian. With his hand making the bill of a hat, holding it so it covered his eyes, Dan said, “ Where’s the party at, dude?” Like mine, his impression of Brian’s voice was getting good. If Brian had a cartoon character, that would be the perfect voice.
I laughed and shot an impression back. “ I can’t hang out dude; I’m with ole girl.”
Dan pushed his plate back, as he held his stomach. “ Damn, that was good. I’m ready for the electric chair.”
When we started drinking out, I never kept track of how much I
drank, so as we ordered another round, I anticipated keeping
the buzz going. Eating food slowed it down, but I’d had more than enough booze to feel drunk. The time flew by as the night became hazy. I didn’t even remember
Brian walking up to the table. Brian sat in front of me, with his Abercrombie hat on, like he hadn’t missed a beat.
Dan watched a girl get up from her table and walk out of the bar area. “ Damn, that girl is fine as hell.”
“ You gonna hit that, Dan?” Brian asked.
“ Dude, that chick is smoking”, Dan said.
“ Yeah she is”, Brian said laughing.
Dan could sense Brian’s sarcasm, almost like he needed to explain why he didn’t have a girlfriend. “ “Why aren’t chicks like that at the lame ass parties we go to? ”Dan asked, in a sincere way.
“ What’s up, Dan?” I said in a deep woman's voice.
Dan laughed and said, “ Yeah, I need to find out where
she hangs out, instead of a bunch of rookies standing around a keg talking about football. Hey, did you see the big game yesterday, dude?” Dan asked, in a goofy voice.
“ Whatever dude,” Brian said.
I pointed to a table with a group of girls that we would all dismiss. “ Well, I guess it’s about closing time. It’s better than nothing”, I said.
“ Which one, big face?”Dan asked.
Brian and I laughed.
“ Not it!” Dan shouted.
“ What’s wrong with the blonde headed chick ?” Brian asked.
“ She doesn’t have a chin,” Dan snapped back. She looks strange, like a girl that wears huge sunglasses because her face is shaped weird.”
Brian pushed a drink toward Dan. “ I think you need a little more to drink, man. She’s kind of cute. You need some beer goggles, or something. Maybe you should lower your standards, just a little”, Brain said.
“ Dude, I’d rather be single than settle for a girl I don’t like”, Dan said. Dan and I discussed Brian’s
need for a girlfriend all the time before. Maybe we were just jealous.
“ Man, that girl would be better than nothing” Brian said, his eyes barely visible underneath his hat, and his cheeks already flush from the drinks. He finished one of his drinks, and then the other one, downing it in one swig.
“ Damn Primetime, you're gonna be plastered,” Dan said.
“ You need a nipple, man? What’s the matter with you?” Brian asked.
“‘We’ve been drinking since you left for work”, I said.
“I can tell”, Brian said, then laughed. “ I heard you guys at the front door when I walked in.”
“Dude, I’m shit faced. There’s no way we could’ve made it down to Nashville” Dan said.
“ You guys suck”, Brian joked.
“ You okay, Dirty?” , Brian asked. He could see my low mood began to lower. It happened every time
“ Yeah, I’m just tired.”
“ Are you cool with going back to 325 and hanging out with Adam?”, Brian asked.
I must have missed the conversation, but I didn’t care what we did next. All I knew was I needed to slow the drinking, or I was gonna be sick.
“ Yeah, sounds good to me.”
Dan did an impression of Adam, making a face with squinted eyes and irritation. “ You gotta beer dude?”
“ Come on man, he aint that bad”, Brian said.
“ I’m just ready to get the fuck outta here”, I said.
Brian looked at me. “ You sure you’re okay, dude”, he said, wiping his mouth with his hand. “ You got a little on ya.” He spotted some barbecue sauce on the corner of my mouth.
“ I’m saving some for later”, I said, in an aggressive tone. Anyone who criticized me still reminded me of my father. In my drunken state, it pissed me off.
Brian’s laughter stopped.
I got up from the table and walked to the bathroom. I had to leave the table. I was feeling agitated and ready to be alone. Being around a lot of people and talking exhausted me because I was naturally a quiet person. When I drank, I spent a lot of energy talking nonstop, and eventually, it would drain me to a point that I wanted to pass out on the floor.
As I stood in the urinal in the bathroom by myself, I enjoyed the moment of silence. “ I’ve gotta get the fuck outta here”, I said, like someone was standing next to me. As noise and chatter of random conversations faded into the background, I pictured myself doing a mission with a special ops team. “ I need to go for a run”, so fuck this, I’m gonna run home!” I shouted.
I stumbled back to the table and sat down. Dan and Brian were immersed in their conversation, so they barely noticed my return. I sat there silent, still contemplating getting up and running out the door.
“ What ‘s up, Dirty? Are you doing alright?”, Dan asked.
“ I feel like running home”, I said.
Brian looked at me. “ You sure you’re okay, dude”, he said, wiping his mouth with his hand. “ You got a little on ya.” He spotted some barbecue sauce on the corner of my mouth.
“ I’m saving some for later”, I said, in an aggressive tone. Anyone who criticized me still reminded me of my father. In my drunken state, it pissed me off.
Brian’s laughter stopped.
I got up from the table and walked to the bathroom. I had to leave the table. I was feeling agitated and ready to be alone. Being around a lot of people and talking exhausted me because I was naturally a quiet person. When I drank, I spent a lot of energy talking nonstop, and eventually, it would drain me to a point that I wanted to pass out on the floor.
As I stood in the urinal in the bathroom by myself, I enjoyed the moment of silence. “ I’ve gotta get the fuck outta here”, I said, like someone was standing next to me. As noise and chatter of random conversations faded into the background, I pictured myself doing a mission with a special ops team. “ I need to go for a run”, so fuck this, I’m gonna run home!” I shouted. The shouts echoed in the empty bathroom.
its a calling we all have. dealing with the same issues of drinking as well, leaving for bootcamp on November 11th and look forward to restarting a life full of regrets.
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