Can’t Lose for Winning

CITY OF CHAMPIONS – I went to a holiday house party on Saturday night. It was pretty good but there was a point I decided I wanted to leave. But the people I was with were in no rush to go. Here’s how it went down.

I’m in the Burbs and not Boston! I gotta get to Boston! The boys want to go get some drinks, I decide that I’m definitely going back to Boston. I think I forgot that we were in the Burbs, near nothing, and I had no idea where I was going. Whatever. I pretend to be interested in staying, while waiting for my chance to ditch out.

Everyone goes into the kitchen to mix some drinks up. So I sneak out the back door, classic Ryan move. No way I’m saying goodbye. I look to the skyline, can’t see Boston. Damn it. I pick the direction that I think Boston should be in, and start walking. I’m fully aware that I’m staggering big time. As hard as I try, I can’t walk in a straight line. Not even close. So I start jogging. That lasts about a block, after I trip into a parked car. I remember crossing a little bridge over a river. I see another party with the door open, I think about it for about a minute, then decide the Boston is the right move. If I wanted to go to a party in the Burbs, I would have stayed where I was.

After about 20 minutes, I’m still not finding a main road or the skyline. I decide that I should go back to the the Burbs party. I stop and turn around. But I have no idea where the party is at this point. So now I’m completely screwed. I just keep walking in the direction I was going. In my head, I keep thinking that I’m closer to Boston than I think, and I’m just going to stumble onto Mass Ave any second now. I see my first car in the past half hour. I see street lights. I see a Burger King sign!

I decide I’ll get a Whopper and some chicken tenders, and a cab number. The guy working behind the counter is honestly about 109 years old. He can’t even keep his hands steady enough to pick up the change, and can’t see a foot in front of him. I feel bad. He does get me a cab number though. There are also four guys hanging out in the Burger King, probably in their late 70s, making fun of the cashier for being so old. Good stuff.

I call around in Boston to see what’s going on. By luck, I end up talking to someone who’s heading into the city from the highway. This is perfect. I make plans to take a cab to the highway and he’ll pick me up there. Things are looking up.

So I’m standing in front of the Burger King, in a t-shirt. I realize that I’m really cold, I was too drunk before to notice. I’m stuffing the Whopper down my throat when a cop rolls by. The car pulls a 180 and swings back for me. I just keep eating the Whopper and watch the cop. She rolls down her window.

Cop: “Um, you OK?”

Me: “Yeah, just enjoying my sandwich”.

Cop: “Where you going?”

Me: “Southie”

Cop: “How you getting there?”

Me: “cab”

Cop: “you call one yet?”

Me: “yup, the old guy in BK did”

She stares at me, shakes her head a little bit, mutters ‘whatever’ and drives away. I fling the rest of my Whopper into the street and start working on the tenders. Soon my cab is there.

Cabbie: “Where you going?”
Me: “The highway”

Cabbie: “The highway?? What part??”

Me: “an exit”

He drops me off at an exit near Waltham, my buddy picks me up like 5 seconds later. Well maybe it was a half hour, I don’t know. But it felt real quick. He looks at me, says ’so when did you start drinking?’ I answer honestly. ‘I haven’t stopped since Thursday!’

So we get to a party in Southie. This girl runs up to me and gives me a big hug. I have no idea who she is. I turn to my buddy, right in front of her, and whisper in a very, very loud whisper ‘who is this girl?’

She just laughs. She tells me she was in my grade school class. And all of a sudden I remember her. She was pretty cute in 4th or 5th grade. The party is full of Southie people that I haven’t seen in 10 or 15 years. Old little league buddies, grade school kids, the kid that I stole my first car with. The first girl I kissed. The kid from school who used to poop his pants every week. It’s a really strange feeling, seeing all these people I knew growing up. I kinda wish I was more sober so I could talk to these people more. Again, whatever. I stay here for a couple hours, just dropping beers and hanging out. I’m happy with the way my mystical journey ended up.

We hit another party, not much going on there. Everyone is taking off for another party, but I’m done. I’m about a mile from my house, I go into an all-out sprint for no apparent reason. I think I did about a 5:30 mile. I really have no idea why I did it, it just seemed right at the time. I hit up some leftover chinese food and pass out on the couch.