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Lost Sailor · 04-04-2007, 07:43 PM

I keep thinking about this, and have decided to forget dwelling on it, because the two instances that keep popping up in my head follow, and I KNOW I would have not thought twice about doing something 100 times more drastic.

I was pulled for speeding around 11am while drunk, and had dumped out my wine, which the officer saw as he was pulling me. He didn't toss me in jail amazingly, but towed my car and took me home. My wife was at work, of course. Now...how would a normal person react? Well, what I did was call my realtor, whose office was about 2 miles from me and I hadn't seen since I closed on my house about a year earlier and ask if I could borrow his car for something(insert lie here). I rode my bike to his office, drove his BMW to the store and stocked up on wine and cigarettes, smoked in his car on the way back, drove to my house as fast as I could to drop off the wine, chugged some, drove back to his office probably reeking like a wino and rode my bike as fast as I could home. Classy.

Pathetic, but not as stupid as this: was staying at a rental house for work in Columbia, SC away from my home in Charleston, SC and had the company car I was given for my job. I had downed about 3 big bottles of wine in a few hours and shouldn't have even been conscious. So I decide to go get more. I drive around town until I find no stores are still open and either pass out at the wheel or something drunks do to wreck-I don't remember the specifics (big surprise). I drive my company's car into a tree on a side road near Ft. Jackson, which was about 2 miles from my rental house, but I don't even know where I was headed; not to my house, at least. I open the car door and step out, and bust my butt because the car is about 2 feet off the ground from where it should be. I bash my face in on something and gash my cheek under my eye. I decide to leave the car, and stagger home, blood everywhere, pouring down my face, over my shirt, on my pants, in my hair, down one of the busiest 4 lane roads in the city. I still am in complete awe NO one stopped at this spectacle. I finally made it home several hours later and passed out in a pool of sticky blood. I awoke the next day with my pager going off: work. Don't answer it, of course. My eye was swollen shut, my face looked like I had been run over and I have a gigantic wound on my face. And no car. And I don't remember where my car even was or what happened. And I know no one in town.

So this is a problem: I wrecked my company's car, but I don't know where. I need medical attention and have no wheels and know no one. Work is calling about something, and at least to know where I am and why I'm not at my appointments, at worst why the Columbia police are calling them. Holy crap.

My next door neighbor was an eye doctor, so he took care of me as much as he could, which had to be divine intervention. Of course I tell him I tripped into my doorknob (those damn doors-they always get people in the eye!) So I call the police, file a false report saying my ex girlfriend took my car without my permission and I hadn't seen it and did they know where it was? I wasn't sure what measures they'd take to track down my ex, but it was yet another stupid risk I was willing to take. Finally found the car, took a cab to the tow yard, and it's wrecked pretty bad. So I have to take a cab to the bank, get money and back to pay to get it out. Then have to pay out of pocket to have it towed to a shop and fixed which was major $$$. Then I have to explain to my girlfriend what happened to my face and why the car's in the shop, as well as deal with my boss and work and all that entailed.

From that episode, I was out serious money, eventually lost my job, lied to everyone, almost killed myself and everyone on the road, then almost gave myself a concussion if not much worse, avoided being arrested by the skin of my teeth, gave myself a nice laceration and could have lost my eyesight, and if I remember, was driving without a license to begin with from a prior run-in that was alcohol related. And not only can I say I drove that drunk again during the following years many, many times, but I'm willing to bet somehow I was drunk the next night.

In fact, I have a story almost identical from when I lived in Atlanta and stumbled down Peachtree Rd. through Buckhead for 5 miles from midtown all the way to Lenox Mall covered in blood and dirt from running from the cops through the woods after wrecking my girlfriend's car at 3am and a cab finally picking me up(reluctantly). I don't even think anything needs to be said about that.

Isn't drinking glamorous? It's an insanity potion.

04-04-2007, 07:43 PM	#3 (permalink)
Lost Sailor Member Join Date: Mar 2007 Location: Asheville, NC Posts: 24	I keep thinking about this, and have decided to forget dwelling on it, because the two instances that keep popping up in my head follow, and I KNOW I would have not thought twice about doing something 100 times more drastic. I was pulled for speeding around 11am while drunk, and had dumped out my wine, which the officer saw as he was pulling me. He didn't toss me in jail amazingly, but towed my car and took me home. My wife was at work, of course. Now...how would a normal person react? Well, what I did was call my realtor, whose office was about 2 miles from me and I hadn't seen since I closed on my house about a year earlier and ask if I could borrow his car for something(insert lie here). I rode my bike to his office, drove his BMW to the store and stocked up on wine and cigarettes, smoked in his car on the way back, drove to my house as fast as I could to drop off the wine, chugged some, drove back to his office probably reeking like a wino and rode my bike as fast as I could home. Classy. Pathetic, but not as stupid as this: was staying at a rental house for work in Columbia, SC away from my home in Charleston, SC and had the company car I was given for my job. I had downed about 3 big bottles of wine in a few hours and shouldn't have even been conscious. So I decide to go get more. I drive around town until I find no stores are still open and either pass out at the wheel or something drunks do to wreck-I don't remember the specifics (big surprise). I drive my company's car into a tree on a side road near Ft. Jackson, which was about 2 miles from my rental house, but I don't even know where I was headed; not to my house, at least. I open the car door and step out, and bust my butt because the car is about 2 feet off the ground from where it should be. I bash my face in on something and gash my cheek under my eye. I decide to leave the car, and stagger home, blood everywhere, pouring down my face, over my shirt, on my pants, in my hair, down one of the busiest 4 lane roads in the city. I still am in complete awe NO one stopped at this spectacle. I finally made it home several hours later and passed out in a pool of sticky blood. I awoke the next day with my pager going off: work. Don't answer it, of course. My eye was swollen shut, my face looked like I had been run over and I have a gigantic wound on my face. And no car. And I don't remember where my car even was or what happened. And I know no one in town. So this is a problem: I wrecked my company's car, but I don't know where. I need medical attention and have no wheels and know no one. Work is calling about something, and at least to know where I am and why I'm not at my appointments, at worst why the Columbia police are calling them. Holy crap. My next door neighbor was an eye doctor, so he took care of me as much as he could, which had to be divine intervention. Of course I tell him I tripped into my doorknob (those damn doors-they always get people in the eye!) So I call the police, file a false report saying my ex girlfriend took my car without my permission and I hadn't seen it and did they know where it was? I wasn't sure what measures they'd take to track down my ex, but it was yet another stupid risk I was willing to take. Finally found the car, took a cab to the tow yard, and it's wrecked pretty bad. So I have to take a cab to the bank, get money and back to pay to get it out. Then have to pay out of pocket to have it towed to a shop and fixed which was major $$$. Then I have to explain to my girlfriend what happened to my face and why the car's in the shop, as well as deal with my boss and work and all that entailed. From that episode, I was out serious money, eventually lost my job, lied to everyone, almost killed myself and everyone on the road, then almost gave myself a concussion if not much worse, avoided being arrested by the skin of my teeth, gave myself a nice laceration and could have lost my eyesight, and if I remember, was driving without a license to begin with from a prior run-in that was alcohol related. And not only can I say I drove that drunk again during the following years many, many times, but I'm willing to bet somehow I was drunk the next night. In fact, I have a story almost identical from when I lived in Atlanta and stumbled down Peachtree Rd. through Buckhead for 5 miles from midtown all the way to Lenox Mall covered in blood and dirt from running from the cops through the woods after wrecking my girlfriend's car at 3am and a cab finally picking me up(reluctantly). I don't even think anything needs to be said about that. Isn't drinking glamorous? It's an insanity potion.