(Me pictured with my shirt and the cup I drank from the first time I ever drank.)This is another shirt from The Onion, and is a way (not that I need more) I make fun of myself. I drank for the first time my second semester in college, and it wasn’t a good mix. Although I had just beaten my brain cancer, drinking opened the door to many of the negative feelings I refused to acknowledge while going through treatment…namely anger and sadness. Simply put, I was usually not pleasant to be around when I was drunk.
I did a lot of stupid, hurtful, selfish things when I drank. I hurt people I cared about most and some people that I didn’t know. I recited a lot of drunken poetry to many attractive BC girls. I stumbled, fell, but somehow was able to outrun all of my friends who were always trying to help me get home. I drank before, during, and after parties. I usually refused to participate in drinking games, because I didn’t need a game. I had one game, the Dave Drinking Game. It had two rules: 1) Finish drink as fast as you can 2) Repeat rule #1. I got into fights with classmates, struggles with BC Police, and woke up in ERs.
My family and friends did their best to be supportive and concerned. Luckily for me, they never stopped loving me. Through it all, my parents never even once raised their voices to me about my drinking. When BC made me go to rehab, they were there visiting me. My last time in rehab, they were there to tell me that my friend Justin had passed away. Justin was a thirteen year old who I met while getting cancer treatment. He had a brain tumor too, but his was towards his brain stem and wasn’t reacting very well to treatment. We became hospital buddies and would stay in the same room if our treatment schedules crossed over. We watched the Red Sox a lot, and laughed a lot. When his prognosis wasn’t looking very good, he asked his mother to call me to see if I could go visit him. I couldn’t because I was in the hospital getting charcoal for my alcohol. Times like that are what I think of when people ask me, “Do you think you could just have one?” Like everything, the only thing that mattered was what I was telling myself. Finding out about Justin and hearing a guy in his upper thirties say “This is my ninth time in rehab” were enough for me to tell myself I was never drinking again. And, I haven’t. Thank you to all my family and friends who stuck by me through those times, I don’t know how you did it. More drinking stories later, I'm sure...
On a lighter note, here are some gems from two of my favorite drinkers, Homer and Peter:
Homer:
“All right, brain, I don’t like you and you don’t like me – so let’s just do this and I’ll get back to killing you with beer.”
“Bart, a woman is like beer. They look good, they smell good, and you’d step over your own mother just to get one!
“Homer no function beer well without.”
“Ah beer, my one weakness. My Achilles heel if you will.”
“To alchohol, the cause of and solution to all life’s problems.”
“I am in NO condition to be driving…wait a minute! I shouldnt be listening to myself…I’M DRUNK!”
Peter:
Lois: You're drunk again.
Peter: No, I'm just exhausted 'cause I've been up all night drinking.
Lois: Peter, what did you promise me?
Peter: That I wouldn't drink at the stag party.
Lois: And what did you do?
Peter: Drank at the stag pa-- ... Whoa. I almost walked into that one.
Lois: Oh, my God! You can only play the piano when you're drunk!
Peter: Now that's not true! I can also vomit, fall down and make dirty calls to your sister when I'm drunk!
Peter: I told Lois I wouldn't drink
Quagmire: Don't feel so bad Peter
Peter: Hey, I never thought of it that way
Peter: C'mon, let's go drink 'til we can't feel feelings anymore.
Peter: Wow, is that really the blood of Christ?
Preacher: Yes, it is.
Peter: Holy crap, that guy must've been wasted 24 hours a day.
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