Alexis Patron

With a foggy head and glazed over eyes I stumbled off the Q train. I must have passed out. The train had stopped, why had it stopped? Slowly taking one step at a time onto the cement platform as if a quick step would knock me on my ass, I looked down at my soiled black pants. I didn’t know when I threw up on them, but hoped that no one else had seen it, that would have been unfortunate. Blinking heavily as if that would help release the pain from my head, I stared at the blurry sign that said Manhattan. I was on the wrong platform. I needed the Q to Brooklyn. I walked to the end of the platform in slow motion so as to not disturb the gin and tequila dancing about in my stomach and brain. All signs said Manhattan. Minutes later, covered in alcohol and McDonalds, I carried myself over to the nearest police officer to ask him how to get to Brooklyn. I asked him why all trains went to Manhattan.

“You are at the end of the line, this is Coney Island.”

Like a three year old being told that Sparky just died, I stared at Mr. Officer.

At four in the morning the trains run about every half hour. Awaiting the next train, I bent over the trash can for a good ten minutes trying to relieve the astronomical pain from my body. I couldn’t stand up. I had passed out, I must have, that is why I had missed my stop and ended up at the end of the line. Barely conscious I tried to figure out if I could make it home before my 37-year-old roommate got up for work. I didn’t want her to see me like this. As I started to gain senses back the first was an overwhelming sent of urine. I couldn’t believe I had lost all bladder control in my “state.”

I had become a shit show.

This was my first night passing out on the train home. Many nights were to ensue. What lead to excessive amounts of alcohol? Who knew, there were so many reasons, so many things that happened during my year in New York City, all of which lead to my alcoholism. This night, it was because of my crazy bitch of a boss, not only had I had many shots of tequila at work, but I went out with my coworker after. I don’t remember if I made out with any strangers that night, which wasn’t uncommon for me to do, but what I do remember was that at the end of the night, covered in my own puke and urine, I was at the end of the line. I shoulda called it a night, that is for sure.

As Anastasia had told me many “mornings” that she tried to wake me up at 1pm, I was a waste case shit show for a good eight months. Jobs, men, money, the city, sex… all resulted with me, ass up with an empty bottle of liquor and a massive headache. Even though I had become an alcoholic, I sure had a great time and it made for some great stories! Keep posted, hilarity will ensue!

alexispatron3@gmail.com

3 Comments so far
Leave a comment