Wanna read hilarious episode one available for your reading pleasure about cheating death? Click this.
“Pre-Papa K” was a point in my life that I did a lot of stupid things… but none stupider than a night shortly after I graduated college.
I got invited to go downtown (called “Bricktown” here in Oklahoma City) to attend a “going away” party for a girl named Raw Meat Eater (not her real name) whom I shared several college classes with. Attending this get-together with me was another buddy and classmate of mine: Nicholi. Nicholi did not (and still doesn’t) partake in the ritualistic drinking habits of most Neanderthals like myself.
Alcohol makes you do weird things
How incredibly blessed I was to have him there that night! I may not have even had the opportunity to cheat death!
The night started at a restaurant/pub called Coaches where I decided to drink Long Island Ice Tea’s (LIT’s). While we were there I drank three of them… and they were particularly strong!
After Raw Meat Eater had her fill of Coaches, she decided she wanted to go to City Walk i.e. “7 Clubs In One… 7 Times The Fun”.
Nicholi, the ever diligent friend, went along with everyone despite not being inclined to drink himself stupid.
Still at Coach’s. About two LIT’s in at the moment (girls identities hidden… I’m sure they have jobs and husbands they want to keep)
When we arrived at City Walk, if I could have drunk LIT’s any faster I would have absorbed them through my skin. After several glasses… I couldn’t even begin to tell you what happened. The only real evidence I have of what happened, are a few mental snapshots, some pictures I took with a small throwaway camera and what Nicholi could tell me.
By the time Nicholi and I were ready to leave it was still fairly early. We started making our way for the exit at around 10:30 or so, which was amazing considering how many drinks I had consumed in such a short time. Much of the trek to the exit consisted of me trying to shake a huge booger off my finger I had just freshly extracted from my nostril. After trying unsuccessfully for a minute or two, I wiped it on my pants before walking into the crisp nighttime air.
Shortly before extracting a booger from my nose…
Nicholi sheepishly smiled and apologized to anyone I yelled at that I indeed was drunk and not to take me too seriously.
After talking up every one walking by me and screaming at the top of my lungs about how great a lover I was, a cop on a bike actually came by and asked Nicholi if I was driving home.
“Yes I’m driving him home.” Nicholi said.
Fortunately, the cop accepted Nicholi’s answer as truth and continued on and I yelled after him, “SCREW YOU COP-MAN! I’M DRIVING!!”
Nicholi assured me that he was only going to drive me in his car to find my car… because I had conveniently forgotten where my car was about four or five LIT’s ago.
Using the power of his unfaded brain… Nicholi tricked me into getting into his car. Once I was safely buckled in and the doors were locked, he began driving me home. I only realized this about halfway to my apartment. I let Nicholi have it with a multitude of slurred curse words scattered in amongst my assurance to him that I NEEDED my car in order to get to work tomorrow morning!
Nicholi was unwavering despite how many times I cussed him out, “I don’t care. You’re not driving. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”
After enduring the 16 mile trek back to my apartment, Nicholi dropped me off at my apartment. I stumbled up the stairs to the front door of my apartment still angry that my friend didn’t believe I was okay to drive! With that final thought, I placed my hand on the door handle to the apartment when a “brilliant” (and completely drunk and faded) idea came to my head: “It doesn’t take me very long to drive to Bricktown… I’m just going to walk back there AND GET MY CAR!”
I don’t remember anything for a little while after that thought.
The next thing I clearly remember is waking up on a golf course putting green. Where the hell was I and what was I doing on the putting green of a golf course?
Yes… yes… it looked exactly like that!
While I gathered my thoughts over a quickly approaching headache I suddenly heard dogs barking VERY CLOSE to me and the only thing I could think to do was run. I ran and scaled a chain link fence in a matter of milliseconds only to swan dive into patch of bushes, crack my neck and somehow wind up on my back staring up at the moon.
I laid there for a moment. I seem to remember actually being pretty comfortable. I was about as comfortable as you could be after falling several feet off the top of a chain link fence into the middle of a bush. I even considered giving up my quest to pass out in this comfy bramble.
Alas… I could not give up.
I picked myself out of the shrub, dusted myself off and found myself walking through a residential neighborhood and in the back of someone’s yard. Dogs started barking again so I started to run again until I reached what appeared to be the access road leading to the highway which would ultimately take me back to my car… 16 miles away.
After trampling along the access road for a while and diving head first into the ditch several times to avoid oncoming cars who might think I was a transient serial killer… I could see the highway. Determined to not lose the highway this time, I made my way through a barbed wire fence only to fall once again and rip the crotch area of my shorts. I laid there once again contemplating falling asleep… but my drunk ass had a mission and I had to complete it.
I made it to the side of the highway after jumping over the concrete median in the middle of the highway and continued walking. Each and every time a car drove by I repeated my ditch dive. In some cases the woods on the side of the highway made for good cover. I attempted to hide behind a concrete barrier at one point only to realize after I’d jumped over it that the hillside below was no less that ten feet below me. After doing my best “Wile E. Coyote” impression, gravity savagely slammed me into the hillside in a tangle of my own limbs. Once I picked myself up, I saw that if I had attempted to jump over the barrier about 30 feet ahead of me… it would have been over the I-44 overpass and I would have landed directly into oncoming traffic.
Taking a picture of myself to remember the moment I cheated death… and because I was bored…
Shaken and still little cross-eyed, I crossed the median of I-44 and continued on to Bricktown.
Gradually, the combination of continual walking and the realization that I actually almost dropped my ass off the I-44 overpass and through someone’s sunroof… I started to sober up a little bit and I first began to realize that this was a really, really stupid idea.
I looked at my watch and realized it was now about 3AM… I’d been walking for almost four hours. I got my cell phone and called several people to see if they could pick me up… but no one answered. It was 3AM after all. It was at this more sober moment that I realized I was at the point of no return. It was the same distance if I walked to my car or if I walked back home. So I decided to continue walking to my car.
After several phone calls to myself to leave myself a voicemail to myself to never do this again, a run-in with a homeless man and multiple trips to the woods and alleyways to relieve myself… I finally reached what I had been walking to get to: my car.
Once I finally turned the door handle to my apartment where I had been a mere SEVEN HOURS earlier and limped into my bathroom… I couldn’t help but chuckle at myself in the mirror. It looked as though I’d been in a fist fight! I had a huge scratch that started on my left temple, went across my eyelid and ending at my nose. I had scratches all over my arms. My shorts were ripped. My hair was filled with dirt and grass and my jeans were soaked well above the knee from walking through all the tall weeds. My eyes were bloodshot to Hell. The arches of my feet ached after walking 15+ miles in my flat soled Adidas shoes that were effectively ruined after putting them through so much.
I threw away my shoes, showered myself and promptly landed between the sheets of my old, hard, crappy twin-bed and fell asleep instantaneously.
I cheated death… and I was feelin’ it.
I should have died any number of times that night. I knew it when I began to sober up on my trek to the car. I knew it when I woke up after I’d fallen asleep in my old, hard, crappy twin-bed. I know it today.
Somebody was looking after me. I certainly wasn’t doing a good enough job of it.
Moral of the story: Don’t be an dumbass idiot face.