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Posts Tagged ‘Chris Lisanti is the upper decker king’

Sit back and let an expert explain all...

This week’s UCB makes a victor of my boy Brennan whom I believe is claiming his first win ever here at SurfingRuinedMyLife.net, although he did win a few back in the Myspace.com days.  He proposed I write a blog about when one should pull the plug on an out of control drunken relationship, be it with a significant other or a close friend.  This topic is one that I definitely have authority over considering I personally have been on both sides of the coin, the out of control drunken friend and victim.

I use the word victim because it is what one becomes when he is on the receiving end of the drunk shenanigans.   About two years ago when I first moved here to Santa Barbara I was a bit of handful.  I went from going out a few times a week, getting buzzed and trying to pick up chicks to going out nearly every night of the week and getting black out drunk.  Most of the time when I get drunk I don’t get all that crazy (unless Im partying with one of my two friends: Tequila and Bacardi 151.  If they are involved then there is no telling what is going to happen) and usually if anyone is going to be victimized from my drinking it is myself.

I know at one point the bearer of this blog and my greatest wingman ever Brennan had just about had it with me.  He claimed by that point it was not fun for him anymore and that he felt more like a baby sitter then a friend when we were going out.  Also I was not a good wingman to him when I was so sloppy drunk I could barely stand straight and talk with out slurring my speech.  Ladies surprisingly don’t find that very attractive.

He approached me about it and at first I was really angry and did not go out with him for about a week.  Then I realized what a jackass I was and eventually came around.  In most circumstances that is the best way to handle the problem.  Before completely giving up on the person in jeopardy confront them and explain to that person just what is going on.  Some people don’t even realize that they are “that guy” until a close friend brings it to light.  I know I didn’t.  Ultimately if things stay the same I would then break off all contact and get off that sinking ship.

This leads me to two separate situations.  The first happened back in New Jersey circa 2002.  I used to go get drinks with some friends and this dude Mike (that wasn’t his real name, for his sake I have changed it to mike) who had just moved back to the shore from a couple of year stint in Oceanside California.  Mike was a great guy, good surfer and an all around fun friend.  When we went out for a party things changed really fast.

Now I have a pretty high tolerance for bullshit.  For starters my sense of adventure is a bit more warped then most.  My motto in most situations that would have regular folks running for the hills has always been “lets see how things play out”.  Truth be told I have been rather lucky that things never played out in the worst case scenario although bad.

Mike was the kind of guy who loved to do crazy drunken feats of strength, whether he was challenged or not.  When we first started drinking together he used to say things like “you think I am going to punch myself in the face?”  And then he would do it.  I found it rather amusing.  Then it steadily began to escalate.

Another time we were sitting at the bar having a good time, when all of a sudden he would be like “you think I will pour this pitcher of beer over my head” as he was pouring it over his head.  Then the bouncer would throw us out.  From there it was “hey I just ripped the urinal out of the bath room wall” or “lets throw this full beer bottle at that cop car over there”.  For me that was the final draw.  One of my fine lines is police interference.  I don’t like jail.  I spent a little time there once for being an idiot and it was enough to scare me straight.

That was it for Mike and I.  The other incident happened out here in Santa Barbara.  I met this 21 year old train wreck downtown about two years ago.  My first indication to stay away should have been our meet cute, which happened when the drunk bitch stumbled into me and fell flat on her face on State Street (an occurrence I would later find out happened way too often) a block from the Wild Cat.  Lets call her Emma for ease of story.  I found her rather amusing and the sex was good.

This crazy bitch got me into so many compromising situations it was not even funny though at times somewhat exciting.  She got into a bar fight with a group of my Jersey friends, had me jumped by her 19 year old brother and two of his friends downtown, had sex with a few of my other friends behind my back, caused a scene and a half in front of Tonic that had me slink off into the night and had me take two unnecessary kicks to the back in two unrelated incidents.  All of which happened while she was completely wasted and I literally had to carry her home on numerous occasions.  The only the thing she was not was a vomiter.   If she were that would have been the final straw right there.

Still that was not enough to turn me off.  The last incident that sent me packing went down at 3:30 in the morning. I found myself in the street in front of a crack house in Isla Vista, where she was trying to satisfy a coke binge inside. Meanwhile I got into a brawl with a coked up black dude, then ended up forfeiting what was left of my money to keep one of Emma’s friends from getting molested by a shady cab driver, finally saving the same girl from being raped by another random drug addict at which point I was ready to get out of there.

I went looking for Emma only to find her popping a handful of non descript pills to off set the coke as she put it. I walked into the room to retrieve her and get the fuck out of there upon this request she told me to go fuck myself as she was sitting spread eagle and all three guys in the room were looking at her exposed panties courtesy of her stained hocked up mini skirt.

I lost it, called her a drugged out whore and (not far from the mark) walked out of the house leaving her to get ganged rapped by the three guys there.  I had to walk the streets of IV till 4:30 am till I finally stumbled upon a friend who was able to give me a place to crash for the night and a ride home in the morning considering there was no more money left in my wallet and I left my plastic at home.  Condition three personal safety is another consideration.

So there you have it.  When is enough, enough?  You need to ask yourself three questions:

  1. Am I really having a good time: If the answer to this is yes at least fifty percent of the time Im still on board, but you can set your own parameters.
  2. Will hanging out with this person eventually have me ending up in prison: For me this is a deal breaker after the first close call.  The moment our relationship has me ducking in the bushes from the cops at 3am its over.
  3. Will this partnership lead to my life coming to a hault or me maimed, disfigured or dismembered: Like I said in the Emma example, personal safety.  Im ok with cuts and bruises, but when we are talking potential hospital stays or worse, well I don’t have the proper medical coverage to handle any of that.
  4. Bonus: Your mental health is another brief consideration.  For me this is never really a concern, but if you are a logically thinking person then you probably have a limit to how much bull your brain can take.  Then again your reading this pathetic excuse for a blog so your tolerance for bullshit must be quite high after all.

These are just some guidelines that I personally follow with the drunken insane.  So far they have kept me alive for over 15 years of heavy duty partying with some of the craziest drunks you will ever meet.  In my case I guess it takes one to know one.

I think this falls into the personal safety category and the jail one.

Is this enough? Your call.

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