At this point we’re getting snow every other day or so, and I’ve officially had enough. Tomorrow night we’re supposed to be clobbered, yet again: a big John Holmes-sized accumulation. It’s bullshit, I tell ya.
Yeah, I know… I complain about hot and humid weather, too. But who says I can’t spread the hate around? Hating one thing doesn’t mean I automatically have to love its opposite. Right? I guess weather is like politics: it’s the extremism I don’t like — on both ends of the spectrum.
Last time I asked you guys to guess what the cashier at a drugstore said to me, when I asked, “Just curious? Why did it take me, like, 30 seconds to complete my transaction, and it takes everybody else 7 minutes? What’s the difference?”
Some of you were close. She said, “Have a good day, sir,” and waved over the next person in line. So, basically I was dismissed by a cashier. Which was probably appropriate, if I’m to be honest; I was being a snarky little shit, after all.
One thing I want to clear up, though… It wasn’t just the old man in front of me who was taking 7 minutes (possibly a slight exaggeration), it was also the two or three people in front of him. This wasn’t a case of oldster aggravation, it was human race aggravation. It feels like everybody lives inside their own bubble now, and has no consideration whatsoever for the folks outside it. It’s bubble blindness.
Today I’d like to talk about waking up in a state of confusion. Hopefully you guys have some stories to tell on this one? I’ll start the ball rolling with three of my own, and hand over the reigns to you. How’s that sound? Good. Let’s get started, shall we?
A few days ago I was driving to work, talking to Steve on the phone. He’s a college professor, and had a great story for me.
He said a kid recently showed up to one of his classes about 35 minutes late — 15 minutes before it was supposed to end. After the class was over, he apologized and explained that he’d been out late the previous evening “partying,” and didn’t get much sleep.
Consequently, he nodded off in another class, earlier in the day. The class ended, and everybody left — without waking him. Not even the professor bothered with the guy. Then (get this!) another class arrived, and also didn’t disturb him. So, when the kid finally jerked awake, he was surrounded by a totally different group of people, and a different teacher, teaching a different subject.
Ha! How long would it take your brain to process that crap? A tiny puff of smoke would probably come out of my ears. Also, when did it become OK to casually explain away your fuck-ups to an authority figure, by telling him you’ve been partying too much? Does that seem bizarre to anyone but me?
When I was in high school I attended Senior Skip Day, and was drinking heavily before noon. It was insane: Sodom and Gomorrah at Shawnee Park. I remember I was eating grilled chicken that wasn’t cooked all the way through, and didn’t give it a second thought. The basketball team was cooking it up, and it was freaking good. Just, you know, kinda raw. It’s a wonder I didn’t shit myself into oblivion, over by the teeter-totters or whatever.
Anyway, around 5pm I woke up in my own bed, and had no idea how I got there. My parents were due home from work any minute, and my beleaguered brain was spinning a thousand miles an hour, trying to figure it all out. I was just glad I wasn’t smeared in blood, or clutching a butcher knife, or something.
Then I had a terrifying thought: Where was my car?? I didn’t even know how I got home. Please let the car be outside… preferably without a wad of flannel shirt wedged in the grille.
Of course, it wasn’t out there. It wasn’t on the driveway out back, and it wasn’t parked on the street in front of our house. WTF?! I was in a full-on panic.
Eventually I found it, parked on the street, about halfway down the block. And I learned, a day or so later, that someone drove me home, parked my car, and walked to their own house.
Crazy! I felt like shit for days, and made it a rule to never start drinking before the sun goes down. It’s still something I subscribe to, thirty-some years later. Those fifteen minutes, or whatever it was, when I couldn’t find my car and had no idea what was going on, were horrifying.
Finally, on a lighter note… Back during my high school days, some of the theaters in Charleston would show midnight movies. Hundreds of drunken (ALWAYS drunken) teenagers from all over the valley would congregate to watch weird-ass movies like Eraserhead, and Plan 9 from Outer Space.
One night I went to a multiplex, called Park Place, where they were showing something like six different movies. I was with my friends Bill and Vincent, and we opted for Taxi Driver. It was showing in the biggest theater, but there were only about twenty people inside.
We sat about halfway back, in the middle, and were (needless to say) half to three-quarters drunk. And at some point Vincent fell asleep. I elbowed him, and he didn’t respond at all. Bill tried to rouse him too, but he was snoozing; I mean, the dude was out.
So, we did the only logical thing… We gingerly placed an empty popcorn bucket on his head, and left. We paused near the doors at the back of the room, and looked at him sitting in the center of an almost abandoned theater, with a popcorn crown on top of his head. And we laughed and laughed.
We waited in the lobby for him, and about ten minutes later… he came roaring through the doors, completely pissed. And that only made us laugh harder. Again: how long would it take a human brain to process such a thing? Good stuff.
And now it’s your turn. Please tell us your tales of waking up in absolute confusion. Use the comments link at the top, or bottom, or whatever the hell.
Thank you guys for reading! We’re very close to getting this thing back on track. Please stay tuned.
And have a great weekend.
More snow is coming. Buy Jeff a beer! It’ll be touch-and-go for a while. He’s gonna need beer.