Drunk-Hyde's Tale

Alright--drunk blogging. That's a new one for me. I wrote most of this last night, but saved it "as a draft." (It's 9:26 am Thursday morning now). I'm going to post it as it was written, only spell-checked and with the insertion of minor explanations. Shit. My throat is fucking hurting again today though. There's a direct relation between my health and my drinking. Why am I such a stupid motherfucker? Anyway, yesterday I went to the doctor. My insulin numbers are all screwed up, plus I'm putting on weight. The doctor yelled at me because I'm not taking precautions about the whole insulin thing. "You have a disease!" he said, going on to tell me that I'm going to get diabetes unless I'm careful and won't be able to conceive children yada, yada, yada... I get the point. He told me I have to stop drinking. Ok. Well, I starved myself yesterday and then drank last night. On almost a literally empty stomach, I got drunk much faster than usual. The final count:

4 glasses of wine
2 shots of jager
2 shots of Stoli-Vanilla
1 lemon drop
(all over about 2 1/2 hours).

When I got back from the doctor, I cleaned my house and was all set for a nice evening at home. Well, like I said--it didn't happen. Here's what did transpire--Drunk-Hyde's tale:

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How much can happen in 4 hours? 12:00 to 3:00 or something? To go from Law & Order SVU to being drunk off my ass yet again!

Well, at around 11:00 the boys called me--RK and RY. (RK is the guy I met last Wednesday who was standing on my street corner high and drunk. RY is his good friend. They were hanging out together at RK's place). It seemed to be some kind of exciting event for them, you know? Like they were sitting at home, bored and drinking, with a mystery-girl's phone number programmed into RK's phone and they finally decided to take the risk and call it. They were trying to act cool on the phone, and I spoke to them both. RK thought he met me at a party. I reminded him I met him on the street corner after he came into Cheers absolutely fucking wasted. He didn't remember anything about it. I told him that we spoke about his girlfriend (and their problems), that I went to Columbia, that he said he knows people at SIPA, that he works for Deutsches Bank and that he was high on coke. He was aghast. He couldn't believe he gave me so much information about himself. (Particularly the girlfriend problems and the coke thing). I could hear RY laughing so hard in the background. RK asked me to brunch over the weekend. When RY came on the phone, he asked if I was going out tonight. I said "maybe." We talked a few minutes more and hung up. NextDoorNeighbor called and asked if I wanted to meet him at Cheers for a drink. I said "okay" and got dressed. I think it was around 11:30? Anyway, I was ready by midnight, but NextDoorNeighbor said he changed his mind and was going to sleep. I was all made up already, so I went out on my own. Besides, those boys said they were going to text me their plans.

So there I was, alone, while drinking wine. Saw PumpedUp, FightingMensch and the red-faced lawyer. IrishBird was tending bar. I was bored, so I texted a lot of friends. Finally, the boys showed. RK didn't even recognize me. There was a lot of akward flirtation. I was not interested in either of them although I seemed to have more in common with his friend (interests, travel, etc) and RK kept commenting on that. RY was trying to sound like an intellectual at one point and asked me if I knew who Vaclav Havel was.

"Sure," I said. "Have you read Power of the Powerless?"

He didn't know what I was talking about. Such a phony!

Eventually, it was closing time. (The red-faced lawyer and FightingMensch were long gone). RY was outside smoking. I told IrishBird and PumpedUp to spill the end of my last drink and that we would go. PumpedUp said he think's I'm beating out FightingMensch's record for "closing out" the place. RY and I parted ways and I went to the deli. I was starving becaue I haven't eaten anything.

I didn't go to my usual place--instead, the one down half a block. I honestly don't know why. When I walked in, the guy behind the counter was staring at me and smiled.

"Hyde! Did you get up okay the other day?"

Yep--you guessed it. It was Mohammed the deli-man, whose name I had scribbled on my hand and who gave me a wake-up call last week. I pretended to be on the phone with someone so I wouldn't have to make small talk. He seemed friendly and nice though, so I "hung up." He asked me out for Saturday.

"Why would you want to go out with me?" I asked. "I mean, no offense, but the only thing you know about me is that I stumble in here drunk on weeknights. I don't know what you must think of me, but it can't be all that good. I have to question your intentions."

He vehemently protested and assured me that he means no ill. He is kind of cute--blue eyes and shaved head. I'm confused about his ethnicity with his looks and a name like "Mohammed." He said he knew I would wonder about his motives and only wanted me to give him a chance. He said that he wants to take me to the movies, dinner, drinks, anything I want. He said that he knows how to treat women well and only wants the opportunity to "show me" how well. Whatever...

I said "okay," but now I'm not so sure. We exchanged numbers again. Now I have a phone number written on deli-wax paper. Sometimes I feel like my life is so surreal. Anyway, I left with my food as PumpedUp and IrishBird were coming in. I pulled her aside and told her the Mohammed thing. She said she knows Mohammed.

"What do you know about him?" I asked.

"He makes good sandwiches." We laughed.

We all walked out together. I was pretty drunk at that point. They got into a car. Weird. I've never seen them in a car. IrishBird moved pretty far out in Queens though, so maybe PumpedUp was driving her home.

Anyway, I'm home now (it's almost 4:00 am) and I want to call Narc more than anything. I want to call him! I want to call him! I want to call him! More than you know. I'm burning for it. Dying for it.

But I won't.

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Anyway, that's the end of drunk-Hyde's tale. Time to start another day. Another chance to take care of my health--emotionally and physically. Shit, though. Why can't I seem to get it together?

-frustrated Hyde-