Author Information
Drunken friends
Drunken Friends
By:
Enrique Almaraz
And
Orlando Leal
He woke me up at 7 in the morning, he wasn’t hung-over, he wasn’t feeling bad, it seemed as if nothing had ever happened.
“I’m exhausted”. He said
“That’s new”. I replied,
“I can’t handle another week like this”.
“You are such a wimp”. I said laughing
“I am gonna get so drunk today, I am not going to stop until…”
“Don’t even think I am gonna go out with you” I said harshly
“We’ll see about that” He answered grinning
I have no idea how he convinced me to go out with him, I knew that I was going to look after him; I always do. I arrived at his house at seven in the afternoon. He was sleeping. I let myself in because I knew no one was home. I sat waiting. After a while he finally woke up, he didn’t care that I had arrived, took a bath and changed into some nice clothes. Minutes later the guests arrived. It seemed as if he only knew one person of the large group of people who entered the house, but he greeted all of them with the same kindness.
Everything was fine until the booze ran out around midnight. I, unfortunately was the only one sober. I made my way through the cloud of smoke and reached my friend. I begged him not to leave the apartment, but he didn't pay attention to my claims, I suppose he was to drunk, the music was too loud, or he was too distracted by the surroundings, because five minutes later we were outside. They could barely walk. My friend had an empty bottle of cheap rum in his hand. He said something I couldn’t understand and seconds later I saw the bottle flying across the air. It looked beautiful; it floated through the dark sky. He had captured the moon inside the empty bottle. I observed peacefully, until the sound of breaking glass brought me back to reality.
“I hit the lamp post”. He said proudly
We made our way through the street, hoping to find four taxicabs that could take us to a <<friend’s>> apartment. I told my buddy that we would never find a taxi in the middle of the night let alone four of them in a row.
“Let’s think about the possibilities not about the impossibilities”. He said
I yawned and took a look at my watch, when I turned my head I saw four green taxis lined up waiting for everyone to jump in, I sighed and got in the one my friend was in. When we arrived, one cab was missing but no one cared. The remaining boys and girls ran tumbling up the stairs into the new party. My friend turned to me and said, “I can’t go in there, if you don’t stop me no one will and I won’t hesitate to start drinking again”. I could see the seriousness in his face.
He finished his thought and started to throw up. He wouldn’t stop, it seemed to me as if he was going to barf up his liver. By the time he was done, I had already bought bottled water to help him recover from dehydration. He looked tired; I started to feel compassion for him. All of a sudden he was no longer in this world, He had traveled from the darkness of the night, to the nothingness of his mind, to the land of immortality, the universe of dreams.
Then, anger struck me and I reminded myself that he had told me we would be back home by two in the morning but it was already three. “I’m so tired; I can’t believe he is doing this to me”. I murmured. I tried to wake him up so that we could go back home, but when he opened up his eyes he simply ignored my feelings and petitions and acquired another position and fell asleep again. Although I never left his side and he was never out of my sight it seemed as if I only existed when he needed me.
“Does he really need me? Do I need to be here? Does he deserve my help? Why should I be as miserable? How could intellectuals and philosophers get it wrong? Human beings aren’t bad in nature, or good for that matter. We are egotistical and selfish beings”.
Upon asking myself these questions I became immersed in a turbulent and troubled sea of thoughts. I sat down beside him, my mind adrift finding at last that endless darkness, this peaceful slumber. When I woke, I forced him up, carried him into a taxi and returned to his apartment. I lay on his bed and he just dropped on the floor.
He woke me up at 7 am, he wasn’t hung-over, he wasn’t feeling bad, it seemed as if nothing had ever happened. I looked around and thought to myself, “this isn’t his apartment”. I was sitting on a log, my head was spinning, my breath oozed and I had no idea of what had happened the night before.
