Why Alcohol Is Enough
It was probably the most disgusting thing I have ever done. It was just like a story a friend told me about why she didn’t take drugs any longer. She had tried speed once in high school and all she could do was sit on her bedroom floor and pick up dust particles that she had never noticed before. Every time she thought she had picked up the last miniscule dust particle, she looked around her room and realized that there were more she had missed. She wasn’t sure how long she sat on her bedroom floor picking up dust, but she was pretty sure it had been a number of hours- she stopped about the time she sobered up from the speed.
So there I sat, scraping away with my right thumb and forefinger. I scraped and I scraped and I scraped. I think it was about an hour of constant scraping until I realized that not only the neighbors might a hear vague yet constant scratching sound through their bathroom wall/kitchen floor, but that I was also ruining my fingernails. But as soon as I thought about ruining my fingernails, I scornfully countered with, “Screw the fingernails! It’s not like I get them done and actually care about them! Hahahahahaha!” Consequently, I kept scrapping.
I don’t know how much alcohol I had had since most of it was an attempt to rid our pantry of mixers purchased three years ago for Tyler’s legendary 21st birthday party (probably the best party in the history of our cluster of friends, thank you). The rest was consumed after I was drunk and had decided I needed more rum/whiskey/dry white wine in order to keep myself at the happy drunken stage I was already at. It worked, as I think I listened to and bounced around to Danse Macabre and Danse Macabre Remixed ten times each. (See, this is why I plan on becoming a “great drinker”- I don’t know when to stop.) Hopefully, it was loud enough to piss off JamesandSarah.
Anyway, all I can say is that I’m still drunk, yet I must have sobered up enough to realize just how disgusting it is to use your fingernails to scrape four months of collected foot scum and dog scum off the sides of your bathtub. Gah. How am I going to live this one down? It has to be the worst drunken moment of my life. Thank <insert god of choice here> I was the only one around to witness it.
2 Responses to Why Alcohol Is Enough
Who the What?
Hi, I’m Min. I write fiction about one-ring circuses, ghostly Schnauzers, and children who play with too much chalk.
But you won’t find those stories on this blog. Instead, you’ll find mediations on culture and society that piss people off, as well as a ton of stuff about storytelling and writing techniques.
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Awright, no more makin' fun of my fingernails…
Fuck you, online poker.