The Adoption (eBook)

CHAPTER 12

HAZARD’S OF HARD LIQUOR

For Me: Beer Is Mo Better

It was Sonja who first introduced me to the sin of hard liquor. Yes, just like Adam blamed Eve for that apple business so long ago; I followed suit. Instead of an apple, this time, it was a quart bottle of Smirnoff’s 100 Proof Vodka.

A big mixer scheduled in Coolidge on the 7th floor Friday night promised a good start to the weekend. Sonja suggested a little something to drink after the dance would be nice. Bud or Miller was my response. Neither, I’d like a Tom Collins. What kind of beer is that? Never heard of it. Tom Collins mix and Vodka. Oh. Where we gonna get that? Same place I bought your beer last week. Look, I’ll get you a bartender’s book and a mixing set so you can learn how to make it; OK; all right. A near fatal acquiescence on my part. A quart of Smirnoff’s 100 Proof, the book and the bar set; all in a double sacked, heavy duty brown bag. Went up to my room with the goodies and proceeded to go about business; in my own independent way; just like Bell’s pizza. First drink, I did follow the book---the second I tweaked a bit by adding a little more Vodka. Just as a new cook learns through eating his own mistakes until the dish is mastered, I drank mine until I mastered the process. Never got drunk before, but never played bartender before either. Not thinking anything about the alcohol I was consuming or how potent it was, didn’t want to waste anything. The bottle cost almost $10.00. It would be a sin to throw out the practice rounds. 15 minutes later, success, I had mixed the perfect drink. Still had about ¾ of the Tom Collins mix left when I hit bottom on the Vodka bottle. Called Sonja; I got good news and I got bad news. What’s the good news? Found out how to mix the perfect Tom Collins. Great; how? Put about 2 ounces of Vodka in a glass; are you with me so far? Yeah. 2nd, gently pass the cap of the Tom Collins Mix over the two shots of Vodka so the spirit can capture the essence of the Collins—remember, gently/slowly—the mixing process cannot be rushed. Pray tell, what’s the bad? We need more Vodka __ we’re out. What are you talkin about? You had a whole quart. I drank it. Well, except for one of the earlier mixes, Kenny from down the hall came in, asked me if he could try it. Other than that, finished it myself. Ya drank the whole thing? Yes---I---did. How do you feel? Just like Tony the Tiger: I feel --- Great! Bet you do. You sound OK. Well; how should I sound? Look, just come over to Coolidge. I’ll meet you down stairs in the lobby. Right away; it’s important. So, move it! Alright, keep your shirt on, or your blouse or whatever you have on, at least for now: I’m coming. Half way across the court yard, in below zero weather, the wind— howling--blowing snow flurries and drifting all over the place. “Hey I forgot my jacket”. I thought gee, that’s strange; I don’t feel cold but I should; well, no bother, almost over to Sonja’s now; no need to go back. I walk through the doors to Sonja’s dorm just as she is getting off the elevator. I wave my hand---haphazardly. Hel__ lo ___Son__ja. Is that me, slurring my words? What’s happenin to me, I thought? Sonja let out a few expletives. Didn’t know she knew any. Where’s your coat? Back in my room; I __ spoze. Didn’t need it. Its freezing outside; what da ya mean, you didn’t need it. Sonja, it just doesn’t feel that cold to me; looked it--didn’t feel it. Now Sonja, up to the seventh floor; the mixer is about to start. Ron’s band is on tonight and I promised we’d be there. His group is supposed to be pretty good. We better go. He lives on my floor and I’d never hear the end of it if we didn’t show.

Well, OK. Probably do you some good to bounce around and work up a sweat; burn off some alcohol—get sober. I’m not drunk---am I? Never been drunk before. Up to # 7 we went. Ron was the lead singer and lead guitarist. First song, “Nowhere Man” by the Beatles. Couldn’t believe the harmony—they were outstanding. Wow! After that, they played dance music. Things started to get a little fuzzy. Found myself in the center of the dance floor ‘all by myself.’ Hey, we must be pretty good. Everybody is backing away while me and Sonja steal the show. Sonja—Sonja--where’d she go? Ah, there you are. Pretty good, aren’t we? No; we are not; actually, you are not. You’re all over the place…got to get you outta here before security shows up. Oh, that bad eh? Look, come with me while you still can walk---I’ll guide you---gotta put you in the stairwell---help me with this door—it’s heavy. Together; we got it open. She sat me down on the top step---Stay right here; I’m gonna call Andre’ and Richie. ‘My best buds’. They’ll haul your fanny outta here. Richie happened to be in our room studying when she called over. Get Andre’, and Jim’s coat. Come to Coolidge; the seventh floor, collect your roomy---Fast, he made quite a scene on the dance floor and I put him in the stairwell. Technically, that’s a ‘girl’s only’, area. If he’s caught, you know the University Policy. He’ll be off campus so quick it will make your head spin, truthfully, it’s not all his fault. I can’t explain that now. Just get Andre’ and get over here, ASAP. Sonja, you said bring his jacket. Yes. What’s he doing without it? It’s freezing. He claims, ‘didn’t feel a thing’ on the way over. I believe him. Should have sent him pack-in right then and there. Instead, I hoped to sober him up with a lot of water and fast dancing. Bad decision; it didn’t work. Quit asking questions and get over here PDQ. While Sonja was summoning ‘the human taxi’, I got ready to meet a couple of co-eds as they rounded the staircase two flights down. I heard them coming: voices --- louder and louder-- as they stepped my way. I couldn’t get up—my blood was now a 100 proof just like the stuff in the bottle. Hel…lo… ladies. Now, just 7 stairs down from me; stopped in mid climb; a bewildered look on their faces. Oh, don’t wor--ry bo-ut me. I won’t har--m ya--can’t harm any—bo-dy; too much to drink. Just pas_s_s_s—me by. Promise not to mooo…ve. At that instant---out of my mouth, full blast, my innards thrust upward. Well, if you thought the exorcist was shocking, I dialed that scene up about four notches. It was bad; very bad. My victims now drenched with venomous foul brew. Mounting a supreme effort, I banged on the steel door. Sonja! Sonja! Sonja! I’m in big trouble. Get me out of here. At that moment the door opened. Sonja, Andre’ and Richie, ‘my Saviors’, quickly surveyed the carnage. JD22; try to stand up we’ll help but you gotta do your part. Let’s get to the elevator. Sonja, press the button. Ding, the door opened. Put his coat on. The stocking hat: Sonja, pull it down. Everybody, come close; prop him up. Ding, bottom floor JD, try to walk, stumble, stagger, don’t care what mode of travel you choose. Those girls have got security by now. Our caravan crossed the quad to JFK. We took the elevator to the second floor, then down the hall to room #203. Andre’, flop him in the bed. I’ll call Sonja and tell her we made it, she’ll be relieved. Ask her what the hell happened? My lady filled them in. They looked at me; looked in the trash can and confirmed all the tell-tale markers were there. The empty quart of Smirnoff’s, the left over 3/4 of a bottle of Tom Collins mix. On the floor, lay the remnants of a bartender’s tool set and a stained, ‘how to’, drink book. My sober friends quickly got rid of all the paraphernalia. Ritchie aired out the room and partially covered me. Hoping I would sleep it off. I was left alone. The biggest surprise. I Woke up in my own bed!

Richie; what time is it? Sun’s up; I have a 9:00 o’clock. It’s 8:45… Well I can just make it. Well J.D. that’s your Saturday class; right? Yah, well, it’s Tuesday. Are you shi__en me? What happened? Last thing I remember, I was with Sonja. I had just finished making her a drink. Yah, you drank it and while you were playing ‘pretend bartender’ you managed to self-test consuming all remaining 31 ounces. By the way, did I mention Sonja’s not too happy with you either? Oh boy, now I’m starting to remember. I’m in big trouble, aren’t I? Well, JD the bright side is, campus security is none the wiser and I think they have stopped looking for the throw up hooligan that caused all the excitement.

A few days passed and I was able to patch things up with Sonja and get back into good academic grace after missing a test and two term paper turn in deadlines. Sonja claims I just didn’t kiss the blarney stone; I swallowed it. Got the gift from my Grandfather; he was a politician and a charmer; to say the least. Well thanks Gramps---your passed-on talents saved a future marriage and a bachelor’s degree!

Tell me, what kind of a guy can be so totally focused on one task, learning how to make his girlfriend her favorite drink that he is totally oblivious to everything else; to include some unintended consequences of the side effects of swallowing a quart of Smirnoff’s 100 proof Vodka? Talk about tunnel vision! Well, keep that thought in mind when I write about some of the hurdles jumped in Rachelle’s adoption process later in the book.