Monday, October 5, 2009

No. 67 & 68

Beer: No. 67, Heineken; No. 68, Sweetwater 420
Date: No. 67, October 1st; No. 68, October 2nd 2009
Place: No. 67, Rhythm at Music Row; No. 68 Tin Roof, Nashville, TN

The last time I was with these guys and the purpose was to celebrate these guys and these guys all came out I got black-out drunk.

It was bad.

We were in Mississippi and Daniel was going to get married the day after the day after and it was my fifth year senior year. Or my forth year junior. Either way. But all the guys made it to town and it was Daniel’s bachelor party and I hadn’t seen the guys much over the last two years, as I had found Jesus and they had found what they usually found and I’d made other friends and they, too, and we were getting together to drink and get rowdy and make it like old times.

The thing I’d forgotten was that my liver and my tolerance were in new times, and those times and the old times weren’t on speaking terms but I was drinking like they might be, or at least should be acquainted. And the college buddies from sophomore year were there, and I was used to pounding brews with them, and Bofel and Train were there, and I was for sure used to the drinks with them, from Penny Pitcher nights freshman year A Penny for a Pitcher of Beer and I never even had a fake ID and I was in a bar drinking at eighteen and the night started with a happy hour at 5pm with a Rogues Beer $3 for whatever you want at the bar. Well, then I want that pint and a half of strong beer, kind sir and ended it at 4am sitting in a parking lot across from Willie’s house, head in hands, thinking nothing but thinking something about where I’d gone wrong.

My family had come in town and I was to take them out to a nice lunch the next day, and they came to spend time with me and I was burrowed into the couch and I could hardly move and in my haze I wasn’t sure if I saw hunger in my mama’s eyes or if I saw disappointment and even though she doesn’t judge I knew I’d let her down even if it was beyond her to tell me.

And then Daniel’s rehearsal dinner that night was me walking to the bathroom and back to the table and to the bathroom and I didn’t touch a lick of what was on my plate. Not a bit.

The third day I arose from the grave.

That day, Daniel was wed and he said that he’d take all his groomsmen to Nashville at some point in the future, and we’d have a big time of it.

And while it was not all his groomsmen and we didn’t all make it Daniel held true to his word and six years almost to the date later we were as we were then – sans wives, ready to see where the weekend might take us - but knowing it was going to be markedly less rowdy and knowing these times would only roll along once every decade.

No comments:

Post a Comment