Story of a drunk told through a few songs

(A Well Respected Man…The Kinks)

The lights were bright just like in Vegas. He remembered his trip to Las Vegas, it was just great. Vegas was the first time in his life he paid more attention to other things than drinking, even though the drinks were free. Wow, free drinks, and he didn’t use that to his full potential. Anyways the lights, they were bright. For some reason he just laid there, and looked at these lights. His eyelids were heavy so was his body. He was so tired. He closed his eyes.

It was the good old days again. He was waking up on a Sunday morning with a terrible hangover. He felt someone’s presence. It was his old friend from the high school days. The bastard had gone into the navy and since it was the holidays he was home. What the hell is he doing in my room on a Sunday morning?

“Let’s go man.”

“Dude I just went to bed.” Aramis says.

“I don’t give a damn; I’m only here for 2 weeks. C’mon you’re wasting good drinking time.”

“It’s Sunday morning. I usually wait till Sunday afternoon.” Aramis has the intention to cover himself up.

“Lets go to IHOP and have some breakfast, and then we will see where the day will take us.”

Aramis could feel the half bottle of Smirnoff he had drank the night before coming up on him. It was 9 am and he had gone to be at around 5 am. He was not at his best at this moment. Well it was free breakfast, why not.

“Let me get ready.”

“Hurry up I got Ramiro waiting in the car, he is hung over too.”

What a bastard, Aramis thought. Well he is a friend, a good friend at that, so he might as well make the best of his time before he has to go back to the base.

Before he knew it, it was 9pm and 12 hours had gone by. They had gone to have breakfast at IHOP. Then they made their way to where Navy boy had been partying all night. Then they went downtown to Hooters. For a while it was pitcher after pitcher after pitcher of beer. Then at about 5 pm they made their way back to their neighborhood and went to the Hooters there.

Navy boy was driving his brother’s truck which was pretty cool. The problem is that Navy boy lost track of time. This was not good because his brother was a cop. So by 9 pm when they were stumbling out of Hooters close to their home his older brother was about to put out a APB for a stolen ride. It was 9pm when they dropped Aramis off at his mother’s house.

It felt like it was later, he thought it was at least midnight, but it was only 9:40pm. He regretted this type of thing, stumbling in while someone is awake in the house. The worst scenario would be that his mother should happen to have guest over. No, the worst would be that the guest would be from her church. Aramis’ mother was a kind and forgiving woman, but the people at her church were the typical self-righteous ass holes.

Let’s have a smoke while we deliberate. Should we or should we not go in. Well we can’t stay outside all night in the front yard in the cold, swaying back and forth with no wind.

Aramis gets his wit and goes towards the door. On the first try he lands the key in the key hole. He opens the door, no one in the living room, not this one, but he could hear the noise in the other living room. His mother did have some guests in the house. He quickly made his way towards the kitchen to get a glass of water to take with him; he is going to need it tomorrow or later that night. He gets to the refrigerator door and gets a cup fills it with ice. He goes to the valve that dispenses cold water and puts his cup at an angle. No head he thinks as if it was a tap of beer. He giggles to himself. The cup is at a weird angle and as he fills up the cup with water he also gets sprayed with cold water on his crotch, he doesn’t notice it though.

Aramis was about over flow the cup when he felt the presence of someone behind him. Please let it be Navy boy and not one of his mother’s guests. He slightly turns his head backwards and tries to move his eyes more that his neck allows, or at least more than his drunkenness can allow. He suddenly realizes that he has been singing a song; he is softly mumbling “A well respected man”, just like the typical drunk stumbling home.

He turns around and sees a real pretty girl, he has seen her before when he used to go to church, but he couldn’t place her. She on the other hand had placed her sight on the big wet stain on his crotch. Suddenly Aramis feels the cold wet feeling on his crotch. He turns around and starts to stumble back to the hallway leading to his room. He is heading for the door of his room when he suddenly as if he was not in control of his motor skills, he breaks to the right turns on the light lifts up the toilet lid and promptly pukes his guts out.

Aramis didn’t realize how loud he was hurling until he raised his head from the toilet and wiped his lips with toilet paper as if his face and ass had switched places. He flushed the toilet and struggled to get up. He must have been barfing really loud because when he managed to turn around and wipe the tears from his eyes because of the effort of puking; his eyes focused and he had an audience. The pretty girl still looking at his crotch, her parents looking at his crotch and some particles of puke on his face and his mother who was sad with embarrassment, they were all there to have a look at the perfect picture of the drunk.

Aramis tried to make some words form, and all he could get out was:

“Hey brother Venegas, how is church?”

Aramis didn’t wait for a response and he walked towards his room, they opened a path for his drunken stumble. Brother Venegas’ wife put her arm around Aramis’ mother as if to give her condolences. Aramis swung his door shut and in the dark aimed for his bed as he let himself go.

“Another perfect day”, Aramis says on his way to oblivion. On his way down to his bed he passes out.

It felt like a train had marked its rails across Aramis’ head. His stomach was in pain as well as the rest of his body, but stomach and head what he felt the most. He walked into the kitchen. It was Monday so thank God no one was home. He went for a grape juice. He went back to his room with his body lamenting the activities the day before. He is highly dehydrated and slams the grape juice.

It’s only a few minutes before the stomach does the bureaucracy and rejects the juice, so, déjà vu, Aramis runs into the bathroom again. The dark color drink comes up just as he had sent it down. After that distasteful greeting by his body, Aramis stands there and looks at the bathroom. He seems to remember something but it’s too faint. He can’t really remember.

He goes into his room and lies down. He is wondering off to sleep again, he was tired and it had been three days of drinking, when the phone rings. It was Navy boy’s mom. She was less than happy and asked what had happened the night before. She told Aramis that Steve wanted to talk to him later. This was a real drag. Steve was Navy boy’s older brother, owner of the truck that they had been using and also, and more importantly, a cop. Somehow after Navy boy had come over to his house at 9 am; drug him out of bed, drove him all over town, paid for everything, it was now Aramis’ fault. Now that was typical.

If the day before was another perfect one, this one was really going to suck.

Suddenly there were no more lights. It was dark but he felt he was moving. He was in a car of some sort. He was barely aware of the red lights flashing outside. Then the car came to a stop. Two back doors opened and Aramis could see the night sky. He felt so weak; he could not make his chest inflate. His eyes had gone shut for just a second. He saw the medics pull the gurney and felt the wheels hit the ground.

“Another perfect day” Aramis mumbled as he closed his eyes.

working on it

walking home
looking for a dose
so unhappy with you
guided away
embracing hate
it's all the same to you

uninvited guest
sporting sunday best
it's a laugh to all of you
somewhere he fits
cut glass, broken heart
somewhere he is loved too

The story of a drunk told through a couple of songs 5

(Vicious… By Lou Reed)
The bar was always more alive with her there. It could be a Tuesday night with no one there but if Kellie was there…that was all that was needed. She was so thin, tall elegant and so very beautiful. She had the face of an angel and the heart of a saint. I never really figured out why she hung out with me. I guess it’s because I was more in love with the booze than pussy. I guess she was tired of every guy that she met wanting to get into her pants just because she liked to drink. She was no slut…but she was out of place here in this bar and especially with me. She was the love that I needed. She was the only person other than my mother that felt sorry for me. She was the only love I had these days. That and my draft beer and shot of Jack Daniels was good enough for me.
I love to look at her from a distance. She is like one of those paintings that you just can’t take your eyes off of. I couldn’t stop looking at her when she was at the juke box looking for something bluesy, something that was rotting the pit of my soul and needed to come out of the bar’s speakers. I see her dial the number for the song she thinks is perfect. She knows how much I like David Bowie but she dials something else, more movable…more danceable. The song starts loud and strong with a steady beat. She straightens up and turns my way. I’m polite and wait for her before slamming my Jack Daniels. She starts making her way towards the table where her drink and I await. She moves her skinny model like hips to the beat. She is just so beautiful. Her jeans, her shirt and her hair all made for this perfect scene.
I didn’t know much about her. She didn’t talk too much about her family or her past. She just existed. That was all I needed. A fellow drunk to be with me at the bar. She never asked me about my past or my family…all she wanted was company and not some asshole trying to fuck her. Or maybe she just wanted someone to sit with at the bar so no other guys would be hitting on her. I guess I did the job although im not a tough guy. I’m a drunk with a beautiful girl sitting with him. Beauty and Drink. At the time she sat down she has a smile on her face which is met by my greatest effort not to bum her out. I smirk so she knows I’m good enough for a few drinks.
The day has been long for me even though I woke up around one in the afternoon. It seemed like 8pm would never roll around to get my fix. At around 6 thirty she had called me right when I was going through the last shakes of my hangover. It was a good thing it is winter time. I couldn’t handle this type of hangover during the summer. My back was on fire and my head was throbbing. The cold helps out a lot. About an hour after she called I’m outside the pad waiting for her with a cigarette in my hand. Its cold but man its good for me. I open the door to her Amigo and hop in. She looks at me with a smile that tells me we are going to get wasted. I return the smile.
So here I am at the bar as per usual and she says to me that it was kind of dead. I agree. She tells me that it was a clear night and that maybe in an effort to save some money we should go by the liquor store and buy some forties and head up to the air port and stare at the landing lights as the planes land. I agree with her. So we pay the drinks and take off.
Once in her car she searches her collection of discs and once we are set with some Lou Reed we are on our way. We hit the Centennial and walk out with 4 forties of malt liquor. It was cheap and it did the trick. It was all we needed. All we needed other than our mutual company. I cant stop thinking about the looks I get when I’m in the liquor store. The typical look that says “what tha fuck is she doing with this looser”. If I was super preoccupied with picking up chicks I would take it as a compliment, but im too hung over to care about it. The teller looks at us when we get to the counter with the same look and Kellie makes it worse by putting her arm around me and pulling me close to her. She smells great. If my mind wasn’t so fucked up desperate for the booze I might of got a hard on by her smell.
Once at the air port or really across the street from the runway we park. It is a clear night and the lights shine bright on the runway. The air is cold and very crisp. We open the windows of the car and start with the first forty. We light cigarettes because nothing is better with cheap booze than a nice Marlboro red. In my drunken haze, the toxins from the night before left behind from a bottle of Smirnoff mixing with the new poison from the St. Ides is making for a great potion in my blood stream. At this moment I am totally content. I have my fix. My company, my music and most importantly my booze.
I don’t know why Kellie and I get along so well. Other than music and booze we have nothing in common. I don’t know how she feels about me but I love her. Not in a “I want to get married” sort of way. I love her because she is my friend and she makes me feel like I’m not a total waste. I feel bad for her though. It almost seems like she is being punished by having to hang out with me. I wish I had something more to offer her, but all I can offer her is my friendship. I’m not as good looking as her, and certainly not as tall as her, and I don’t know if I can protect her if we ever got into any trouble. I don’t question the situation, I’m just happy to be around someone so beautiful on the inside as well as the outside.

Aramis talks to his beautiful friend in the car and watch the night and planes go by. They laugh while Lou Reed plays. Aramis doesn’t know it but this will be the last time he is out with Kellie. They laugh at the stupid jokes made by one or the other. They enjoy each others company. A couple of spaces away another car parks. Neither Kellie nor Aramis notice the car or the three men inside.

The night was crisp as well was the aluminum bat that hit me across my back. All I could hear was a bunch of yelling. I could make out the words “Quit IT!” being screamed. It was Kellie’s voice. She was being held back. All I could see was a blur. These bastards really ruined my night. I had just opened my second forty. I try to cover my head from the kicks that are breaking air all around my ears. They somehow seem to hit me everywhere at once. I try to roll around and catch a punch near my right eye, which pushes me into some broken glass from the forty I dropped when they pulled me out of the car. The side of my face is pierced by the glass. Then I catch a boot near my chin and lower lip. I thought I was out at this point but then the last thing I felt was a kick right in the mouth of my stomach. I groan, I cough and spit out some blood. I hear some last words being screamed at me by one of the bastards. Then I’m out.
One of the men from the car was trying to keep Kellies attention on his words. She kept trying to break free from his grip. Her tears ruined her makeup. She was scared that she couldn’t look but at the same time wanted to get the other two men off of Aramis. She screamed many times for them to leave him alone. He wasn’t a big guy and was no match for the two men. Aramis was rolling around trying to cover his head and not take too many hits.
They slammed Aramis’ head on the pavement which by now was stained with his blood. The man holding her and trying to get her to listen to his screaming threats pushed her against the car. Kellie brings one sleeve up to her lips that covered in saliva and tears and wipes. Her eyes set dead on her friend on the ground bleeding. Just then one of the thugs decided he hasn’t had enough and walks over with the bat and rolls Aramis on his back and raises the bat in the air. Kellie reacts and tries to thrust herself to stop him but the other two men hold her. A siren sounds off two chirps and the blue and red lights light up the parking lot. The men make a break towards their car. Kellie makes her way to her knees and puts Aramis head on her lap. She tries to wipe the blood off of his mouth. She caresses his head. He is the closest thing she has come to love in quite some time. Not the kind of love that makes a boyfriend but the kind that cant be explained but you know will last. The police walk up to her and make her put her hands in the air. They frisk her and then check the vitals on Aramis. The three men are burning up the road as they speed away.

A Prayer

A soldier kneels only before God, his maker, his guide the only one who can forgive him for his sins. The only one who can see and hear him cry. God is his only comfort.

"My father, I come to you alone,
As you brought me into this world,
My soul and heart belong only to you
As you are my father, my maker
I surrender my sword and loyalty only to you

" On this battle's eve
I seek your guidence and love
Your protection,
Your hand to sheild me

"Walk with me into battle
Be by my side,
Let my eyes see no fear
Let my heart feel only victory

"Guide my steps foward
Never into retreat
Show me my destiny
Let me not fear it

"Let me not lament the blood spilled
Be it my enemy's
Be it mine
Let my sword strike true
Until my enemy's heart beats no more

"Be I alive at the end of battle
Let me not fight another
Be I dead,
Give me peace and forgivness
Wash the blood stained on my soul

"Remember your son
Save your servant
Bless him now and in Darkness
Embrace him at your gates
Dry his tears and heal his sorrow

"In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit
AMEN"

Bad things happen in April

April, its no surprise…
Abandonment, no surprise
Tears for you, while Im alone
Not the person you said to be
Not the person I thought

Wake now, and see reality
Today, your free, you’re free
Make up, and dress up
Before your tears betray you
Before you see hell unleash

Sing, for all of us
A song on your birthday to smile
Sadness is around in the cold
You can tell yourself
“I can live through this”
I hope your wisdom helps you believe

Who is that talking
Who is that crying…
Keep your back turned
It’s not worth your wild…It’s not worth your fire
Take your pieces, laugh and run
You havnt seen it all, little girls first

I say come back, keep your life on track
I’m not scared to melt and burn this way
Been here before, going there again,
This is really gonna happen, it’s happening now
Take your love and run
Your tears are falling for wasted time
Take your life and run…

Mad Laughs and Clown Hats
The room is cold but I’m not aware
I’m falling down a mole hole and having tea on the way
I don’t bother to look around
Everywhere clowns in top hats laughing
All the way down it’s so bright it might as well be dark
At the end salted seas of rabid teeth wait
The room is cold, but I’m not here
I’ve been talked to but I can’t find to understand
If I’m sick I don’t know it
If I’m in love I don’t feel it
If I crossed the line and I’m here
Which is there, I bid you farewell
It makes no difference to me
Come out and play
Regain your faith
Come a little farther to see some pain
Don’t be scared of top hats and mad laughs
Feeling what you imagine tastes like grapes
Through the looking glass and maybe back
With help or not
The room is cold but I don’t care
I’m lost in darkness so bright I’ve lost my eyes
I’ve burned to stone and melted into fire
No one finds a use for me
I close my eyes as the clowns sing lullabies of the grave
When I wake they will laugh again
I will still be falling
I will still not be here
And I will have some tea

The story of a drunk told through a couple of songs 4

(Long Long Long…By George Harrison)

In the haze of the vodka, and the perfectly still apartment Aramis sat alone on his couch. His apartment looking pathetic, a perfect reflection on his life. This is all that ever became of the money he spent on the booze. A drunken haze, not knowing what is real and what is not.
The White Album by the Beatles, it was a way to travel to a time he didn’t live in but believed he knew what it was all about. Stale music to sooth his soul. It was hell to be in this place, just when alcohol gets you numb you understand that you don’t want to be numb. The room seems far away and through his mind he can make out the words sung by George Harrison. It’s such a soft song but yet it hurts so much. A lost love found again, but the fact that it was lost for so long makes the mood become overwhelm by sadness. He looks at his at his apartment as a reflection of his life.

A rummy? Every kid dreams of living like this.

In his mind he can see pictures of the old country, family that he has, looking at him with sincerity. Looking at him with compassion. He opens his eyes and it seems that from the curtins he can see someone staring at him with somewhat disgust. His head wobbles and it dosent look like he is going to make it off this couch not right now anyway and certainly not on his own. It seems like it has been 12:44 in the am for a long time. Things are going so slow. Aramis doesnt remember this song being so long, despite the name it has. It was alright though he liked it.
His eyes close once again. The life in the old country comes to him in flashes of a childhood. Two parents that had all the right intentions of making a family in the traditional sense. Something went wrong with the plan, and now he was cursed. He tries to open his eyes and sees a little boy in front of him there in the apartment, looking at him with icy eyes of wonder. He looks so familiar. His breathing has slowed down considerably. He opens his eyes and there is no boy. He must be dozing off. The boy was never there, he thinks, as he looks on, the face is back at the curtains.
Someone is fighting outside. The yelling is getting awful loud but he is unmoved. Aramis can’t move his body, its way too heavy. To anyone else this would be alarming, but he had been here before. Many times he had been here. He wanted so bad not to be drunk, but to be a child again and be in the arms of his mother, warm and safe. He missed the loving touch of a mothers hand. He missed all the things he was denied. A family, the ability to love, a life. The boy is back and between the curtiains he sees a face turning into blood but he can’t be afraid. It’s too tiring. The face is melting into blood slush and he can hear the pounding on the window. Some one is really fighting outside.

He wasn't joking when he said that he wasnt going to get up by himself from this couch. Things have gone too far. He wasnt expecting this when he signed on, but it was in the contract.

Now Aramis had his eyes closed and they werent opening yet he could see himself laying on the couch. He was in front of himself looking, and next to him the little boy who now was crying. He didnt wimper but the tears would not stop flowing. A splash of blood on the window between the curtians and the pounding was now on the door. Then there he was looking from the couch again at the little boy looking at him. His eyes shifted and he saw his older brother sitting indian style next to the coffee table looking down at some CDs. On the coffee table the gun sat. Aramis wanted to move, but couldnt. The boy staring at him. His eyes filled with sadness. The boy looked down at the Aramis’ side. The vomit was yellow and all over the couch. There was a bottle of pills open and bunch of blue pills spilled on the couch with the vomit, some on the floor. His brother now was still, sitting there Indian style looking at the floor with his head bowed. Then the blood started to flow out of his mouth. It wouldn’t stop. He could hear the sirens now, and the pounding at the door finally broke. He slumped over with the dead weight and closed his eyes laying on the vomit. In his right hand the phone with no dial tone.
The guitars crescendo and the sirens end the song.