There are horny drunks, happy drunks, hyper drunks, crazy drunks, sad drunks, and angry drunks. I’m generally a happy/sleepy drunk. I like to chill out, smile a lot and then go to sleep. It’s very low key.
A lot of people have bad habits when drunk. For example, when I first showed up at college, I used to walk around looking for house parties with live bands. Then I’d proceed to get hammered, convince the guitarist to let me play a song and totally upstage him. Hey, it’s not something I’m proud of! I always assumed that I could get along with anyone when drinking. Oh, how wrong I was.
I was drinking in my room with a girl I’d been seeing for about a week (let’s call her Dara). We were having a good time, listening to music, when the phone rang. It was my dear friend who lived up the road. “Hey,” he said. “Me and my fiancé are hanging out, having a few drinks. Why don’t you come over?”
I said, “Sounds great! I’ve got my new girl with me. Is it ok if she comes, too?”
“No problem.”
We show up and Dara immediately bonds with the fiancé. It’s one of those instant sister mind-melds that women are somehow able to form. The two of them are joined at the hip, hugging, laughing, and having a great time. The night continues, more alcohol is consumed, everyone’s having fun. Get walk into the room where the two girls are laughing it up and chat with them.
Now, I’ve known Kristen, my friend’s fiancée, for a long time. So I say something teasing her and Kristen gives me one of those arm punches that friends often deal out. In a split second, the whole party changed. Why?
Dara, my girlfriend, yells, “No one touches my man!” and decks Kristen. I’m not talking about a girly slap or a push. Dara’s fist whistled through the air in a viscous right hook. There was an audible thud Kristen’s head snapped back, and then a louder one as her legs buckled and she hit the carpet. All I could think of was the famous Howard Cosell call, “Down goes Frasier! Down goes Frasier! Down goes Frasier!” I hadn’t seen anyone hit a woman like that since Ike Turner.
The next ten minutes played out like a scene from Cops. My friend came in and helped me separate the two of them. See Dara, not satisfied with dropping her opponent like a date on prom-night, had pounced on top of Kristen with the intent to choke her into submission. Kristen, meanwhile, had a death grip on Dara’s ear, while the other hand was trying to pry an eye loose. Finally, I threw Dara off, flipped her face down, hands behind her back and pinned her.
When she had calmed down, I dragged her out. 2 minutes later, she slipped away and bolted back towards to the house to throw a beer bottle.
I broke up with Dara about a week later. I had visions of her pile-driving my mother into table at thanksgiving. I guess the point of this story is to know what your date is capable of while drunk, tread lightly, and watch a whole lot of Cops.
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