#46: The Caretaker
Recently, fate and the desire for a drink led me to a bar where a bachelorette party was in its final stages. The party ended by way of the bride being carried away and all but one of her fellow party girls leaving as well. That lone survivor would alter my night drastically.
After drinking and talking until closing my new drinking buddy was too drunk to drive. I was trying to get her back to her place but instead she wanted to walk (I think she was hoping to “walk it off.”)
We paced around the surrounding area for about 2 hours. Well more like walk, let her hurl, talk, walk, stumble, toss cookies,etc. … . Eventually we get back to her car and she shares her boyfriend’s number so I can call for help—her own phone was dead. After getting no one I leave a message.
It was 4am, she was laid out (still breathing, talking, moving: if she had stopped either of those I would have called 911 already, despite her being against that) and I didn’t know what to do. Just then a cop walks up and I have him call an ambulance.
A few minutes later the wagon comes and they take her off to hospital.
One thing (other than the scar she left on my forearm in one of her failed attempts at standing) that will keep this night in my memory. Just before the ambulance doors closed she mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
—Photo credit: Danny