Drinky the Drunk Guy

(November 07, 2008)

Yay, it's time to play How Drunk Is Joey?!

It's 2:30am. Joe got home about an hour ago, having been out to TC's with work friends, some of whom are still employed, but mostly those who, like him, have been unceremoniously downsized.

In other words, bunch o' riled-up ad agency people who don't have to get up in the morning. In a bar. The same week weed was sent merrily along a path towards decriminalizing.

Exactly.

I should preface this game of How Drunk Is Joey? by saying that this man never really drinks. We're talking a beer every now and then. Weeks or months go by in between beers. Never anything harder, I can't even envision that. Sometimes, rarely, wine with dinner. We are the kind of people who, if a friend comes over with a six-pack and drinks five beers, will leave that last one in our fridge until we excavate it at some later fridge-clean-out-event, usually so MUCH later that we can never rightly recall who brought it, when, or for what occasion.

I've seen Joe have, at most, four beers in one night, and those events are few and far between and usually involve at least one of his family members, a major holiday, or a ball game.

So what are the levels of Drunk Joey?

There's only two levels.

When he's had JUST enough, he glows a fine metallic sheen, talks with his hands a lot more like an Italian than a Polack (he's half and half), and chatters away to all and sundry, punctuated with great booming laughs and many forgivably bad jokes. Oh, and he always gets randy. Heh. Always. When we're together he's been known to "whisper" sweet nothings in my ear that are far from sweet (racy!) and rarely whispers. My baby's a loooove machine...

Then there's the other level, which I've seen maybe once before in the six years I've known him. A state which I think I'll call, in deference to The Dude, "over the line!"

Which brings us back to tonight. THIS I'd like to preface with: BWAH HA HA HA!

I just can't help laughing. I know, it's not funny.

But it's like watching an earnest little kid, who's insisted on carrying a load way too big for him, fall over backwards. Of COURSE you fell over, look what you tried to do! You have to leave this kind of thing up to the bigger kids, dollface!

Tonight he must have tried to keep up with those ad agency people, because he came home, shucked off his jeans, said "My baby!" to me, managed to haul on some loungey pants after a couple of false starts with the left foot. "Good job, baby!" I said when he got his pants on successfully. Then he came over to where I was lounging with my teddy bear, kind of diagonally across the bed, on my tummy, watching the late edition of Nancy Grace. Still standing, he came to the bedside and leaned over to hug both me and the teddy bear.

After about two minutes, he began to snore in that position.

I've never seen anyone fall asleep on their feet before.

I left him like that for a little while, rubbing his back and head. When Nancy Grace was over, I roused him a bit. He woke up enough for me to help him all the way onto the bed. "If you can get up here, I'll go get you some water and an Advil, okay?" A little grunting, a little pulling, he was finally in place, head on the pillow, sweaty death grip on the teddy bear.

So why am I up typing this?

Because of COURSE I had to get the camera and take as many photos as I could. This doesn't happen all the time, you know! It might be another six years before I get such a photo op here.

I thought he'd wake up after the first huge blinding flash in the dark bedroom, which left me seeing spots.

He didn't.

He didn't wake up after the tenth or twelfth, either.

I got some good shots, as hard as it was to aim the camera in near total darkness.

The best part is going to be tomorrow when he uploads the photos off the camera. He'll remember the group shots of a dozen wasted ad agency people with himself at the center.

The rest, he won't remember. Heeee.

So, what have we learned. That the "Over the line" Joey means:
- Successful pants wearing is cause for praise.
- Sleep while standing is a real possibility.
- I'm not going to get my teddy bear back any time soon.

My boyfriend, ladies and gentlemen. Love of my life!

It's not like we all haven't done it at least once in our lives, hm? I should go to bed now, but later I will have to dig in the archives and find the entry where I came home to my old Marion Street apartment and had to ring my doorbell from a sitting position on the stoop, hoping that I made it inside before I puked. That MAY have been the same night I fell asleep in the tub and then went to bed clutching a piece of bread.

Huh huh. Drunk amateurs are funny.