“But if you’re hot to trot, you think you’re slicker than grease
I’ve got news for you crews, you’ll be sucking like a leech”
“So What’cha Want?” Beastie Boys
I was going to write a post about why I bother leaving the house every day. Do you really think I love bananas so much I just had to take another 2 mile walk to Walmart to buy them? No. I do it because none of this fucked up, crazy shit would ever happen to me if I just sat home every day waiting for someone to come knocking at my door. I was outside for an hour and a half today and before I got back here I had a 2,000 word post written in my head, I couldn’t wait to sit down and type. Plus two more stories worth an honorable mention. It’s fucking Wednesday afternoon.
I’m not going to type it out because I want to stick to reminding myself. I gave up on that audiobook, “Sober Curious” because I was listening to the Chapter called (FOMA) Fear of missing alcohol. She gives example after example of things that are much better when you aren’t drinking. I’m onboard with that. She keeps going on in detail explaining all the activities in her life she never thought she would enjoy when she stopped drinking but now she actually has more fun. Then reiterates even more examples explaining why there is absolutely no reason you would need to drink. I’m like, what the fuck? Why does she still drink? The whole point of the book is she figured she had a problem and how much better life is without alcohol, so… I gave up.
But, not before she mentioned something called, “euphoric recall.” I had never heard of it but I knew exactly what it was. It is a major factor in my addiction. Your brain remembers how much fun you had and actually starts feeling that way. Then your brain wants to feel like that again and you go out and use again. Only now, it’s not so much fun anymore. I proved that again to myself a couple weeks ago.
I never thought I had a problem because I was never a daily drinker. 90% of the time I was stone cold sober. I didn’t find out until years later, binge drinking is as bad if not worse. I knew I drank more than most people but I kept it to the weekends. It wasn’t a struggle not to drink on weeknights. Typically I would be home alone reading a book. I didn’t think I was missing out on anything. I really like to read. I got into trouble because I was having too much fun and your brain forgets the negative actions. That’s not the story.
I was thinking about euphoric recall and remembered a part of my life I hardly think about anymore. The Electric Wave. I could probably start another blog only telling stories that started there and I only went there on weekends for maybe a few years. It was a club at the beach that was pretty large. It had two levels. Downstairs had live bands and a bar and upstairs was a dance floor and bar. I know what you are thinking. Sounds pretty lame. No, I’m telling you. Women would drive hundreds of miles on a Friday specifically to go there hoping to party and hook up and then drive hundreds of miles back home the next morning. How do I know? Because we were locals and we knew where all the good after parties were. We were the ones partying and hooking up. What? There is absolutely nothing to do in Connecticut? You have to drive for hours to small town New Hampshire just to dance? That’s not the story either. The story is part of my problem. I think telling these stories is part of my problem.
Back in the day, when I started working during the week and partying on weekends, I had a pretty good job. Sometimes we had to travel far but it was fine, I still got paid for the ride. One Friday my boss screwed me. He sent me to Rhode Island to finish a job. He said he wanted it finished that weekend so he could get paid. It wasn’t chump change. It was a small family business but they did multi million yearly.
Are you kidding me? Friday? It’s two and a half hours away. I’ll never get home. Then to make it worse he said to take Elwood with me. I liked him but he did not like to work. We drove down there and climbed up the ladder and there was a shitload of work to do! WTF? I was absolutely not coming back here tomorrow on Saturday. Elwood,”We really gotta get this done today?”, “Yup.” Elwood’s thing was to pretend he didn’t know how to do anything so nobody would ask him to do it. I worked with him before. I know he’s not an idiot.
The only thing we had going in our favor was all the work and all the materials were in the same spot. That was unusual. I took all the measurements and threw a circular saw at Elwood and sent him to chop the lumber. I kicked out a 100 foot roll of rubber and snapped a million chalk lines and started slicing and dicing. All that was left now was to Henry Ford assembly line this motherfucker.
Elwood was getting into it. He was busting ass. He never asked me one question about how to do anything. We were a unit working in tandem. All day long he kept saying, “Don’t tell anyone I know how to do this.” He was serious. I said, “Don’t worry, Elwood, your secret is safe with me.” Next thing you know, 2pm, Done! Let’s get the fuck outta here! That was a 2 day job no matter how you looked at it. We kicked the shit out of that place.
I know, I know, I’m getting to the story…
Not long after we got back on the highway headed north, Elwood is still saying, don’t tell anyone I know how to to that. A couple young girls came flying up even with us, smiled, pulled ahead and cut in front. We were the only 2 cars on the road. What the fuck did they want with a couple guys in a work van from NH? I don’t know, it was fun. They were bouncing up and down to the music and we played car tag for a while. One of them really seemed to like Elwood, holding her hands apart like she’s talking about the BBC and they both bent over laughing. Eventually they left us behind.
I said to Elwood, “I’m going to meet those girls tonight.”, “What you talkin’ about?” I said, “They are going to Hampton Beach. The Electric Wave.”, “How the hell you know?”
How did I know? We were still in Rhode Island. Their car had Rhode Island plates. Hampton is 2 hours away. They could be going anywhere. How did I know? I just told him, ” I know where they are going.”
We got back to the shop early and my boss absolutely did not believe we finished the job. He kept asking me, “Are you sure?” I told him if he didn’t believe me he could send someone else down there tomorrow but there ain’t gonna be shit left to do.
I went home and started my Friday night routine. Ordered some delivery, sat on the couch and watched the Simpsons. They had 3 episodes back to back. It was my favorite show at the time. Click around for a while.
8pm. Time to get ready, I put on my Friday night playlist, took a shower, shaved, smiled at my pretty face in the mirror and sat back down to wait for my cousin to call.
They picked me up and I told them all about what happened that day while we we drove to the club. They were laughing and telling me I was full of shit. “Yeah, right, what color is the sky in your world?” We we walked up the wide staircase and turned to the right. I smiled and pointed. Who were those 2 drunk girls in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by 10 guys? Use your imagination.
Euphoric Recall. That is my biggest problem. I romanticize the past. That’s how I fucked up this summer. People tell me I just thought I was having fun because I was so drunk. Maybe. Do you have any stories like this?
I’m not telling anyone to go out and start drinking. Do I remember and regret all the godawful shit caused by my drinking? Abso-fucking-lutely! Alcohol is the worst drug. Right now my brain is feeling high, thinking wouldn’t it be great to do something like that again? Like what? Blackout for the weekend and almost get my ass kicked out on the street? It’s not fun anymore.
I don’t know? Do I forget about all the good things? Do I only focus on the negative and beat myself up until I feel like a piece of shit? I do that enough already. Do I forget about everything? How?
I had to come home and write something. I was just minding my own business today and stumbled into a situation and my brain jumped up with, “Wouldn’t it be great if we…?” Uh…No. What am I supposed to do? Hide in my apartment for the rest of my life? That’s no good for me. That’s why I walked 2 miles to get fucking bananas. 4 for 99 cents! How is that possible? A couple good things happened today. Small things, but encouraging. If I stayed home I would have missed that. I did go straight to the office this morning and signed the shit out of my lease. So I have my priorities.
I’m doing pretty well. That is the second time in 2 weeks I ran into an unexpected, random encounter where my brain immediately kicked into gear with, we could have so much fun! And I slammed on the brakes.