leave your dramas and five dollars at the door

Admittedly, the whole Guy fiasco was kind of embarassing because I have a low embarassment threshold, so I recounted the story to B's girlfriend. At this point, I'm pretty hammered, but not nearly as hammered as (we'll call him) Dude in my living room. At this moment he's reciting poetry as roommate B is playing guitar. I chuckle cuz Dude's pretty fucked up, and I can tell because I am too. I'm just a lot more quiet about it.

Soon after, I see that Dude is a lot more fucked up than I am. That scary kind where you wonder about prescription drugs and things of that nature. Now he's reciting poetry, but this time he's yelling it to these girls sitting on the couch. Mind you, now I really don't know anyone in my house, though I have met Dude on a couple of occasions through B.

I ask B how the party's been. He says pretty good, but now he's on Dude watch because he's really fucked up. He assures me not to worry, because he's got it. Dude's still yelling; I look at B; Dude's still ranting. Next thing I know, my front door slams really loud. Dude has escaped.

Dude's now yelling at the girls who were on the couch, but now outside on the corner, and D's chasing him around. The girls call me over by name. I think I'd met one of them before, but I don't remember what her name is.

I'm still stupid drunk, but now I'm in elder statesman mode where suddenly I can take care of everything. I really am an idiot.

I do my best to calm their fears like a good elder statesman (read: moron), and one of the girls takes me by the hand. Again with the physical contact from people I don't know; then I realize who it is. I don't know her name, but earlier B pointed her out to me and said, "That one? She's a freak. She comes in from out of town just to get laid." I go from elder statesman to suave suitor (read: slurring, horny, jackass) in a blink. All I really did was introduce myself, but I know what I was thinking. I'm so typical.

Driving a wedge in my impromptu courtship--and most probably for the best--was another volcanic eruption of anger from Dude. He and B were getting into some shit and I thought we might have to call the cops. I really, really don't want to, but I don't want things to get worse. The girls run back inside and me and B try to get Dude under wraps. There's some screaming and yelling; Dude collapes in the middle of the street and lays there. We consider calling cops again. I go inside to dial, but stop. Cops usually just cause more problems, anyway. B and I go outside again, stand over Dude determined to get him back in the house.

I don't remember what I said to him, but he finally kinda responded coherently, and not just in the poor poetry he'd been shouting since I'd gotten home. We get him on my porch. I just let him talk, and he keeps going and going and going, and I'm sure he's going to pass out. He just has to. He's so fucked up, and I'm so tired of listening to him.

Twenty minutes later, he's still going, even after falling out of his chair and tumbling off the deck. He seems to be calming down, sitting on a new chair now. I think, great, it's finally over. And then he shoots up with a start and falls, again, off the deck, but this time on to the lawn and not the driveway. He's lying there face down, kinda flailing. I think, great, it's finally over. And then he shoots up again and takes off.

I'm at a loss, so I go inside and grab a beer (such an idiot) and then B comes in and informs me he doesn't know where Dude went--he just took off.

The girls and some emo guy get rides home. I sit on the couch with my beer. After a while, I get worried about Dude, who's still MIA. He could have been anywhere. He wass super beligerent, and I was worried about what he might do to himself or someone else. I guess it's the catholic guilt. I convinced B that we should go find him. B's flashlight picks up something in the road about two blocks from our house. It's Dude, passed out face down in the street. We call him, shake him; he's breathing, but he's not really responding. Ambulance, fire truck, police. Drama. Dude got arrested, but at least he didn't get run over by a car.