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“Yo, Buddy.”
“My man! Bet you’re hurtin’ this a.m., huh?” he asks jovially.
“Well, you know me…” I’m hoping if I’m vague, he’ll fill in the details.
“I thought I did, man, I thought I did.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You were prettyextralast night.”
When we were kids, Buddy always tried to sound ten years older than he was. Now that we’re grown up, he tries to sound twenty yearsyounger. “Extra? Sorry, man, I’m not sixteen. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, you hit the booze for sure, but you were into some other shit, too.”
I put my head in my hands, bracing. “Details, please. It’s all a little fuzzy.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
Shit, was Ithatbad?
Buddy lays it out for me. Not only was I mixing my alcohol – a rookie move – but apparently, I was also popping pills through the night.
“I was?” I ask, skeptical. As a rule, I try to stay away from that kind of hard shit. I’ve seen it wreck too many lives. It’s a little disturbing to find out I did it.
“Yeah. I mean, I asked if you really wanted to go that route, and you grabbed my face, kissed me on the mouth and said, ‘Buddy, I’m in paradise!’”
Wow.
“Please tell me that’s all of it.” I was hoping Buddy could fill in the gaps for me. I just didn’t think it would be this bad.
“Pretty much. The only other thing that’s out of the ordinary were the women you were pushing away. Like, you’d let them start something, and then say, ‘no, no, I can’t,’ like you were fucking married or something.”
A thought tickles the back of my brain. The hangover is so thick, it can’t get to the front of my brain however. I pour myself a little whiskey and ask, “What the hell got into me?”
“I had the same question. Asked you once I finally got you back in the car to bring you home.”
“Oh, good. What’d I say?”
“You kept mumbling about some girl.”
The tickle arrives at the middle of my brain. I freeze with the glass halfway to my mouth.“I did?”
“Oh, yeah. Wouldn’t shut the fuck up about her, too.”
“What was I saying?”
“I mean, you were pretty incoherent, dude, so, it was hard to make out. But, somewhere in between the nonsense and the slurring, you kept talking about this girl and something about wine. Wine all over you? Standing in wine? You talked about Giuseppe, too, but I don’t think you were referring to a threesome. You were just all about this girl.”
I finally realize what my brain’s telling me.
Natalie.
She must have really gotten under my skin. Guess that explains some of what happened last night. A little acting out. Maybe I really should’ve stayed in her bed last night.
Nah,I immediately remind myself,that would’ve brought its own consequences. I may regret some of what I did last night, but at least, no one got hurt — except some brain cells and my liver.
“Thanks for putting up with me,” I mutter into the phone. “Sorry I was such a mess. Anyway, I’ve got to start my day.”
