Remember when you were in college, and you'd go to party and get soooo wasted, duude. I thought I did, rather fondly, actually. Oh, not the hangover part, but the blurry fun that my memory seems to indicate I had.
Then, last night, The Brother calls from a beach on the southern Atlantic coast. Drunk, and a bit stoned.
He is totally Duded Out.
You know what I mean, when everything someone says (maybe it's you), is drawn out a bit, your words sliding along the solid (or perhaps just slushy) ice of your mind. That was The Brother.
"Heeyyy Brrooo! Hooww yaa dooing? Iii'm onn the beeach, annd Ii gott fourteeen beeers, maan."
Actually, it turned out to be 8 beers, plus three more in his pockets, a fact he related to me four or five times.
Now, it was funny listening to him, because he was really, really trashed. But at the same time I was struggling between worrying that something would happen to him (silly, I know, but my God is Murphy, and listening to your drunken brother get washed out to sea while he chats on the cellphone with you would be quite an offering, n'est pas?) and a kind of squirmy embarassment as I realized, once upon a time, I might have sounded just like that. Okay, so I gave up my frat boy ways by the time I was in my mid-twenties, and haven't been intoxicated for nearly a decade. I couldn't even tell you when my last good buzz was. Still, he really sounded dopey.
Of course, he also sounded like he was having unbridled fun, something I haven't done in quite a while either.
Anyway, the lesson of this post, Brother, is this: After midnight, don't call anyone who blogs and ramble at them foolishly, or they may come out of their self-imposed silence and write about it for the whole world (theoretically) to see.*
* note: this post was originally on "dave's evil twin" where I hadnt posted for 4 months and nobody read it anyway. Now, Brother, you've got a wider audience.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment