What should I do?

OK

So Dave calls me up this afternoon around 1pm. I just got finished helping my Dad stain the deck, we’ve been at it for 3 hours, and I’m beat.

“What the fuck, dude? What’s up? Are we playing golf this afternoon, or what?”

Hell yes, I’m thinking. Is that even a question? So Dave shows up around 4pm and we hit it, hard.

First, we go to the bar and buy a 6-pack of hooch. OK, we’re set. We put our clubs in the cart and set out.

It takes us FOREVER. The 4 guys in front of us are garbage, hitting 4 balls each and they’re all over the course. Needless to say, it takes us forever to finish a round.

Now, Dave and I are alike, in that we HATE to wait. Both of us are very impatient. 3 hours later and we’re steaming and ready to booze. We skip, entirely, the 8th hole and half the 9th.

Time to booze.

3 hours later we’re in the bar, yucking it up with a couple d00ds and getting sloshed. We’re drinking MAS pints of hooch and doing shots of Jack. We’re FUCKED up, to put it mildly.

Next thing you know, it’s 11pm.

Oh shit.

Dave was supposed to be home by 10pm. The way it looks now, he’s ain’t gonna be home until after midnight.

“Dave, can you drive?”

“Oh yeah, man, I’m cool. Just gimme some water and something to eat and I’ll make it.”

I’m not so sure.

In any case, I feed him, water him, and send him on his way. Then I get to thinking. My Mom’s still up, so I go to talk to her.

“Whassup Mom? So, uh, is it my fault, or what?”

I know what’s she’s thinking. Tom and Walt, all over again (my Dad and his best friend).

I know what’s going to happen. To get the heat off ’em, Dave is going to blame everything on me. So the next time I see his wife, I’m gonna get some stink-eye. But is it really my fault?

“You should be the more mature one, and get Dave home on time,” my Mom says to me.

Should I? I dunno. It’s not like I’m holding a gun to Dave’s head and forcing him to drink, right?

Is it my fault?

I make myself a burrito and head to my room. I can hear my Mom saying, “You men never learn…”

Oh yeah, and we saw Melanie Carrol tonight. She’s married, and teaches 5th grade in Lompoc. And our 15-year reunion is in June. Crazy, huh?

5 replies on “What should I do?”

  1. Thomas…wrong or right isn’t the point. You simply made a shitty choice. Granted being zonked didn’t help you make a good choice.

    You shouldn’t have let Dave drive. It only takes one slip up. More importantly DAVE should have “manned up”, called home and said, “Look I fucked up, I’m fucked up. Come pick US up and I’ll take my lumps in the morning.”

    NOW HURRY UP AND GET TO LONG BEACH SO YOU CAN FUCK UP MY MARRIAGE.

  3. WISHES should NEVER be careful.

    I WISH you would return my emails and phone calls BITCH!

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