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Friday night was a weird night. I had gotten stoopid after having four Hornsby's and a Mike's Lemonade at a party. It didn't hit me how shitfaced I was until I got in the car, leaned the seat back and nearly passed out.
This was after I freaked out at a co-worker in attendance with whom I had been trading one-liners and tossing an inflatable beach ball back and forth all night.
He had hopped into the pool, and I was sitting in a chair near the deep end that faced away from the pool and toward a group of people around a patio table. He occasionally would throw the ball at me to get my attention. I'd throw it back, trying to bop him on the head. Eventually, he grabbed the ball, held it and said, "Truce," and I took that to mean "game over." I turned away from him and looked for something else to amuse me.
A few seconds later, he hauled back and threw the ball really hard. It hit me on my left cheek and bounced across the patio table.
It didn't hurt, but I got really pissed really quickly. I stood up, grabbed the ball and heaved it as hard as I could at him. I missed, of course, then I grabbed my towel, balled it up and threw that at him as hard as I could. I missed again. He started to yell, "Truce!" repeatedly.
The towel started to sink.
Engraged, I said, deadpanned, "You want a fucking truce? Then get my fucking towel." I sternly pointed at the white towel, which was sitting at the bottom of the deep end.
"I'm fucking serious. I mean it. Get my fucking towel."
"Dude, I'm sorry. I'm gonna drown," he joked.
"I'M SERIOUS. GET MY FUCKING TOWEL."
"I can't hold my breath that long..."
That went back and forth for what felt like five minutes to me but probably was more like 20 seconds.
"GET THE FUCKING TOWEL."
At this point, I was aware that several people behind me were watching with discomfort.
"GET IT."
He dived down to retrieve it, handed it to me and got out of the pool from the shallow end.
The BF and I left right after.
That was a weird experience for me. I wasn't in control of what I was saying or doing. Obviously, it was the alcohol, but I don't ever recall snapping like that, ever. When I get mad, I get quiet and withdraw -- then I try to pretend it never happened, lock it up somewhere inside me and throw away the key, to my friends and loved ones' frustration. I never yell at anyone for any reason, not even during an argument, even though I might want to. I recoil at confrontation.
The co-worker sent me an e-mail today apologizing for the incident, and I responded in kind. I didn't hear from him after that. I was more surprised I was worth his trouble to apologize to. I'm embarrassed I acted a fool and wish I hadn't done that. Oy. That'll teach me to be more careful about how much I drink from now on.
Current mood: Depressed
Replies: 2 shoutouts
I remember when I had my first beer.
Posted by Richard @ 06/23/2003 08:13 AM EST
HULK SMASH!
Posted by ~ @ 06/23/2003 06:46 AM EST