so you end up watching a horror movie on the VCR in the den, which only makes you tired and bored and wastes an hour and a half.
In retrospect, THIS was your big mistake.
After the movie, you walk out of the den, and the first thing you see is that the living room is no longer a living room. It’s a mosh pit. Guys are ramming into each other, hollering. Someone has moved the furniture off to the sides, but not the stuff ON it. So you run around the room, closing the piano top, putting Mrs. Adams’s Steuben glass figurines in safer places — because SOMEONE’S GOING TO HAVE TO ANSWER FOR THIS.
Then you notice the liquor cabinet. It’s open. Guys are pouring drinks, and Jay is nowhere in sight.
But Alex is. He’s slumped in an armchair, a bottle in his hand, just staring at everyone with this weird smile.
You run over to him. You kneel down and talk. You ask if he’s okay. He keeps saying, fine, fine, don’t worry, everything’s great. But he’s slurring his words, and his eyes are red, and he seems to be in a whole other world.
And then someone JACKS UP THE MUSIC. You’re right near the speakers, and you feel like someone is punching you in the ear.
You jump away. You run to turn it down.
And there’s Jay, standing by the stereo, a beer in hand, SINGING ALONG!
You turn the volume down, and everyone starts screaming at you. You try to explain to Jay that Alex is in bad shape and you need to talk to him — but Jay doesn’t even listen. He just says,
“Lighten up, Duckman,” and jacks the volume back up.
Louder.
Calmly you turn it back down, to medium-loud.
You are standing toe-to-toe with Jay now. In each other’s faces. You smell the alcohol on his breath. He looks furious. You know he’s NOT REALLY LIKE THIS. Deep inside, he’s not an obnoxious Cro Mag. He’s just a little drunk. But you’re also losing patience. You suggest in a firm voice that maybe HE’S lightened up a little TOO MUCH.
Mistake. Jay slams his drink down on the stereo cabinet. He starts SPEWING. Loud. So everybody can hear: “That’s it, Ducky, mess up my party! Make EVERYBODY mad! You can’t change, can you? I think of ways to HELP you, I fix you up with BABES, I tell all these guys what a DUDE you are, I invite you to my party, I STICK UP FOR YOU against Mad Moose,
who could probably kill me — and what do YOU do? What kind of friend are YOU? THIS is how you thank me?”
You try to speak. You try to calm him down. Fat chance.
Jay is practically sitting in your face: “I give you all these chances to be a NORMAL GUY, and what do you do? Act like a WIMP. Maybe that’s the way you ARE, huh? Maybe there’s a REASON you can’t meet girls! Maybe I’m wasting my breath and all these guys are RIGHT
about you — ”
That does it. You see stars. You want to grab his bottle and hit him over the head.
You raise your fists.
Come on, Jay says.
FIGHT! yells the pack behind you.
You almost do it. You almost jump on him.
But you don’t. You can’t. Your eyes are filling with tears.
So you do the only thing you CAN do.
You LEAVE.
You don’t care if the Jeep is still blocking your car. You’ll drive onto the sidewalk if you have to.
Jay doesn’t try to hold you back. As you walk through the living room, the volume shoots back up to ear-splitting.
You expect to see Alex still in the same chair, but he’s not.
Part of you wants to go without him, but that wouldn’t be right, so you go outside and walk around the house, looking. Then in through the back door again for a quick check inside, but you don’t see him at all and you hate being here and you are LOSING PATIENCE with the amazing disappearing friend, so you decide to check upstairs and if he’s not there, tough, you are GONE.
And that is where you finally see him. At the bathroom door. Struggling to turn the knob. In one hand he is holding the bottle of gin. It is almost empty.
You ask: Did you drink ALL of that?
Alex spins around, like you shocked
In retrospect, THIS was your big mistake.
After the movie, you walk out of the den, and the first thing you see is that the living room is no longer a living room. It’s a mosh pit. Guys are ramming into each other, hollering. Someone has moved the furniture off to the sides, but not the stuff ON it. So you run around the room, closing the piano top, putting Mrs. Adams’s Steuben glass figurines in safer places — because SOMEONE’S GOING TO HAVE TO ANSWER FOR THIS.
Then you notice the liquor cabinet. It’s open. Guys are pouring drinks, and Jay is nowhere in sight.
But Alex is. He’s slumped in an armchair, a bottle in his hand, just staring at everyone with this weird smile.
You run over to him. You kneel down and talk. You ask if he’s okay. He keeps saying, fine, fine, don’t worry, everything’s great. But he’s slurring his words, and his eyes are red, and he seems to be in a whole other world.
And then someone JACKS UP THE MUSIC. You’re right near the speakers, and you feel like someone is punching you in the ear.
You jump away. You run to turn it down.
And there’s Jay, standing by the stereo, a beer in hand, SINGING ALONG!
You turn the volume down, and everyone starts screaming at you. You try to explain to Jay that Alex is in bad shape and you need to talk to him — but Jay doesn’t even listen. He just says,
“Lighten up, Duckman,” and jacks the volume back up.
Louder.
Calmly you turn it back down, to medium-loud.
You are standing toe-to-toe with Jay now. In each other’s faces. You smell the alcohol on his breath. He looks furious. You know he’s NOT REALLY LIKE THIS. Deep inside, he’s not an obnoxious Cro Mag. He’s just a little drunk. But you’re also losing patience. You suggest in a firm voice that maybe HE’S lightened up a little TOO MUCH.
Mistake. Jay slams his drink down on the stereo cabinet. He starts SPEWING. Loud. So everybody can hear: “That’s it, Ducky, mess up my party! Make EVERYBODY mad! You can’t change, can you? I think of ways to HELP you, I fix you up with BABES, I tell all these guys what a DUDE you are, I invite you to my party, I STICK UP FOR YOU against Mad Moose,
who could probably kill me — and what do YOU do? What kind of friend are YOU? THIS is how you thank me?”
You try to speak. You try to calm him down. Fat chance.
Jay is practically sitting in your face: “I give you all these chances to be a NORMAL GUY, and what do you do? Act like a WIMP. Maybe that’s the way you ARE, huh? Maybe there’s a REASON you can’t meet girls! Maybe I’m wasting my breath and all these guys are RIGHT
about you — ”
That does it. You see stars. You want to grab his bottle and hit him over the head.
You raise your fists.
Come on, Jay says.
FIGHT! yells the pack behind you.
You almost do it. You almost jump on him.
But you don’t. You can’t. Your eyes are filling with tears.
So you do the only thing you CAN do.
You LEAVE.
You don’t care if the Jeep is still blocking your car. You’ll drive onto the sidewalk if you have to.
Jay doesn’t try to hold you back. As you walk through the living room, the volume shoots back up to ear-splitting.
You expect to see Alex still in the same chair, but he’s not.
Part of you wants to go without him, but that wouldn’t be right, so you go outside and walk around the house, looking. Then in through the back door again for a quick check inside, but you don’t see him at all and you hate being here and you are LOSING PATIENCE with the amazing disappearing friend, so you decide to check upstairs and if he’s not there, tough, you are GONE.
And that is where you finally see him. At the bathroom door. Struggling to turn the knob. In one hand he is holding the bottle of gin. It is almost empty.
You ask: Did you drink ALL of that?
Alex spins around, like you shocked
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