Walking down Hicks Street on Saturday afternoon, Roan and I crossed paths with a very extremely drunken lady. She was all wobbly, and was being led by a guy with a firm grip on her upper arm. It didn’t look suspicious, though. More of a tight “I’m here for you to defy the gravity that is playing tricks on your intoxicated feet” hold. She had the typical drunken stupid smile on her mug. She was probably pretty cute when not ruddy-faced and sloppy-haired, and she was wearing a supercute summer outfit, minus one shoe.
So. We crossed paths with a drunken lady being assisted by a dude. Roan stopped in his tracks, and just stared. He turned around as they kept walking, and studied the man, the woman, and the circumstance. Then he turned to me and did the universal “What in the Sam Hell was that?” face. So I offered this gem:
“That was one drunken lady”.
That gem was not enough, and my eldest man-child did the universal “Keep Talking” face.
“I guess she just drank too much today. And now she’s drunk. And she’s also lost a shoe”
Roan countered, “I bet you’ve been drunk before.”
So, we’re going to have that talk?
I told Roan that yes, actually I have been drunk before.
But then I was magically able to blame it on my Mormon parents, and that they never drank alcohol – ever – thus depriving me of any responsible drinking role models. Sadly I was left to learn it all on my own. Over and over and over again. And again. Etc.
As I wound this Big Share down, I felt it was important to edit and filter my life story just enough to give myself a heroic and moral quality: so I added that I do now know my own limits, and will likely never walk down a Brooklyn street with one shoe missing and a tight grip keeping me upright. I tried to impress on Roan that it’s not a fun nor a funny thing to get that wasted. But it happens. And hopefully you have a friend nearby to get you home. And find your shoe.
Then the words that came from Roan’s mouth melted my moderate-and-responsible-drinker’s heart:
“I hope if I’m ever drunk enough to lose a shoe, you’ll be there to help me.”
I may just get that tattooed on my bicep.