Friday, January 7, 2011

Memoirs: Absinthe Makes The Heart Grow Fonder (Part 2 of 2)

I crawled off the ground, using the boarding to prop myself on 2 jelly legs.

Head was swirling at this stage, confusion eventually subsiding as I tried piecing together fractured memories. Where am I? Why am I on the street? Where is my shirt? Nothing seemed to register. Some distance ahead I could see a thin trail of car's cut across my street. I approached with abandonment, completely oblivious to how I must have appeared, vomit smudged face, shirtless and staggering with a stupid grin on my face. Oh how they'll laugh at the state I'm in!

Every car I sidled up to, refused to give me a lift. Even the taxi's. I couldn't believe it. Changing tact, I tried asking instead for directions to the City Centre, but no-one complied, which really irked me. Why are they being rude?

I decided to keep walking until I found Tot's place. I didn't know where it was, what road it was on, but I was determined to find it. If only I could recognise a landmark. Besides, the cold night breeze was quite exhilarating. What a nice night for a walk.

About an hour passed in this manner, exhilaration turning to piercingly sober. My fortune suddenly changed as a stray taxi man took pity on me, indicating to pull into the kerb. Thank Christ.

"Where to?" he asked, looking me up and down.

I hadn't thought that far ahead. I had no contact number or address for Tot's. All I could think of at that moment was getting home, 100 miles away.

"Take me to the Station. Train Station mate."

The lush and comfortable interior instantly eased my aching joints. The heated radiator began to warm my chilled body as tiredness began to take me.

"Not sure if it'll be open at this time." he said, doing a 180 turn in the road. Christ. I was walking the wrong way. How long would I have been walking for...
"I'll wait outside it."
"You sure?" the taxi driver said, now looking at me in his mirror.

I was preoccupied picking little gravel stones embedded in my chest, flicking them at the floor.

"Yeah, it'll be grand." I said, no longer in a conversational mood.

My elbows began to sting, and lifting my arms, I could see small folds of skin loosely hanging, exposing a raw pink core. Ah, Christ. Give me my bed. 

He parked the cab up at the front entrance where the gate shutters were down. As I gave the money across to the Driver, he reached out and took it, then stroked my hand, looking at me with sudden interest. Freaked, I jumped out of the taxi rounding the corner out of sight. Walking around the block a few times and wary of falling prey to a taxi pervert, I came back to the entrance just before 6am. Thankfully the entrance was now open. After some pleading with the staff, they allowed this shirtless, drunken, vomit stain on their morning train.

My next conscious memory was being startled out of a deep sleep, by the passenger next to me who shared my cabin. The train was packed and my embarrassment was painfully exposed. The morning commuters were making their daily pilgrimage to work in Dublin and all eyes were on me. I could have died there and then.

----

At that moment Tot's was sleeping off his hangover. The previous night's activities saw me disappear around 11pm. In his equally, but less sensational drunken state, worried about my safety, he went to the nearest Police Station to report me as missing (2 hours had elapsed). They took all his details, my physical description, and my next of kin contacts. Advising him to sober up, they suggested he come back the next day, but that they'd schedule to call my parents next morning as a precaution.

As soon as I got home, charging my phone (dismissing the 49 missed calls from Tots) I went straight to bed. An incoming call beeped from my parents. Explaining why I hadn't arrived at the family home as prearranged didn't seem relevant. It could wait until I woke up.

One of the worst experiences of my life.

No comments:

Post a Comment