It would seem that at some point in the past 12 months I lost my ‘drinking’ common sense along with my sense of self-preservation. This morning I awoke on a stranger’s carpet somewhere in the vicinity of Johannesburg. A blanket that smelled of mothballs was thrown over my crumpled body and my face was glued to the floor by solidified drool. I wanted nothing more than to be the obliging volunteer/victim of a mercy killing, yet no one offered. No one at all.
My first mistake was to accept an offer to go out ‘for a drink or two’ with Solenta Aviation’s Algeria Program manager. A.D. is his name and he appeared to be a great guy. He has helped me over the past few days secure what I need here in South Africa, e.g.: medical exams, accommodation, Visas, etc, so I assumed he had my best interests at heart when he offered to take me out.
My second mistake was actually drinking all of the shots that A.D. kept sliding my way. There is nothing quite like the taste of Jagermeister going down. There is also nothing quite like the taste of Jagermeister coming back up, again, and again, and again.
My third mistake was forgetting just how much South Africans can drink. It will be quite sometime before my liver, stomach and head all forgive me. I promised them all I would never drink again.
Somewhere in the night, which is very fuzzy to me, I apparently thought it would be a great idea to buy a scotch for one of my new friends. I asked the bartender what he recommended and was told Johnny Walker Blue Label. How much? Eh, 225 Rand. It’s obvious to me now that my division skills and conversion abilities when I drink are very much inferior. So, I happily bought this nice guy who had done nothing but buy me shot, after liver dissolving shot, a $35 dollar splash of whiskey on 4 ice cubes. I sure hope he enjoyed it.
In any case, the night out, and the incredibly insane inebriation that I hope to never repeat again (I did make that promise to my organs you know), did get my mind off of my recently experienced misery. Somewhere in the past 12 months not only did I lose my sense of self-preservation and good common sense, I also lost my ability to function happily when a certain girl is not nearby. It’s been almost 5 weeks since I’ve seen Elizabeth, and it is killing me inside. So now, my aching heart has new empathetic organ allies: my stomach, liver and head.
Wishing I was dead.
1 comment:
Quit yer bitchin. Shoot me an email and tell me what your doing in RSA and I'll tell you what I'm doing for the Navy's UAV program.
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