It Can Happen Any Time
When I was sophomore in college I experienced in 24 hours the most exhilarating joy followed by the scariest and most embarrassing experience in my life thus far. I was a hero who led some of his peers to pass the most difficult courses in the program. The excitement led us to buy four bottles of a new popular rum called Diplomatico. Three decades later, I can’t stand the smell of that shit. It makes me want to throw up every time.
After that fatidic day and after some days in self-imposed/self-preserving exile, I spent one year without drinking one drop of alcohol. Decades later, I keep drinking less than 10 drinks a year; that’s my average. That’s how much that pea (drunkenness) traumatized me.
I was the most respectful, quietest, kindest and shyest student in the apartment complex. Dozens of students from all over the region rented room in that neighborhood. It was expected that college student got drunk and made noise, but not me. I used to stay home studying when everybody else was partying. Except that weekend. That weekend was supposed to be special.
There was four of us and we could not be happier. We had passed on the first try a course that most students had to take three or more times. We ended up buying four bottles, so, except for a couple of drinks offered to passersby, we drank one bottle each. I got so drunk I could finally get up the next day at about 4:00 pm (after much vomiting and whining). I got so drunk I completely forgot what I had done after… probably 8 pm. I was told I spilled more than one thing on the hall of the second floor where we rented. I asked a neighbor for a mop and started mopping the entire hall. I got so drunk I started to shout things at whoever was passing. I was so drunk I started to cook. I fried eggs without separating the shell from the content.
The most serious incident involved one of the twin girls who lived on the ground floor. I was told I had spit on her. She called me becerro (literally calf, but it sounded more like mother fucking asshole) and promised to kick my ass. I was advised to leave town immediately. It was an accident, I said. I will apologize. She will surely understand. She looks so delicate and nice.
I was told it was not an accident and I was clarified to me that the one I spit on was not the “delicate one”. This one was the karate expert, the cranky one; the on with muscles hidden under baggy clothes. I left town immediately and would have transferred to another campus if it had not been so complicated. We ended up being kicked out of that apartment. All of a sudden, I had become a very bad influence and the kind of annoying neighbor none wants to have. Never mind my impeccable past; never mind my promises. That otherwise joyous day quickly became the most embarrassing and sobering day of my life. I still see the twin once in a while downtown. I still cringe at the sight of her. I still think she will have her revenge when I least expect it.
Thanks for your reading
This was my entry to @mariannewest and @latino.romano’s 5 Minute Freewrite: Sunday Prompt: SHE IS A KARATE EXPERT. You can see the details here.
Make sure you visit the Freewrite House!!!
