Drunk Dial


“No dude, I said suck it, which I think is a lot nicer than saying fuck off, cause there is a certain implication that I still want her close, even though I’m mad at her. Like I don’t want her to actually suck it, but I kind of do.”

I woke up to my friend Jeff saying this on my phone while I was sleeping. I didn’t remember answering the phone, and when I said “Jeff?” and reached for my phone Jeff wasn’t on the line anymore. I thought it was weird, so I made sure the alarm on my phone was still set and I went back to bed.

I thought about why my phone would be calling my friend, and why they would have so much to talk about. I hadn’t talked to him in at least a month, not since we got drunk at the mall and asked that lady if her baby was my love child. Thinking about that now I feel like I was made of ice or something, I can remember my hands being see through like ice, and that baby's face was the guy from “Law and Order”, the main detective. And then something about water rushing in and flooding the mall and it carried me away from Jeff, and yeah that must have been the last time I saw him.

“Dude you need to come out tomorrow night, it is going to be the shit. Ladies, liquor, and Lesley Gore on the stereo.”

“Jeff,” I mumbled, realizing my phone was on again.

“Oh hey Johnny, I think I dialed the wrong number, sorry.”

My phone went black and I thought about what happened. That stuff with the mall was a metaphor in my dream I guess. I mean we were really in the mall but I was just cold to that woman, and the water was maybe our separate lives sweeping us away from each other. But that wasn’t the last time I saw Jeff, it was a few days later when he had that party and I got real drunk real fast on grain alcohol and passed out. When I woke up he had taken my pants off and had written with a marker on my leg “insert here” with an arrow to my butt. It was still pretty early in the morning when I woke up and everyone else was still asleep, so I riffled around for my pants but couldn’t find them, so just drove home in my underwear without my pants or the cell phone I had in my pocket.

The weird thing about that morning is that I don’t really remember it raining, but it must have been, cause there was a huge flood on one of the roads between me and Jeff’s house. I think I stopped for a second and considered waiting for the flood to die down a little, but was so frustrated about my pants thing and feeling shitty about the party that I just drove straight though. My car just barely made it, and I knew I’d never be able get back across if Jeff found my pants or wanted to apologize.

Two weeks later I found my pants and cell phone shoved into my mailbox. My phone smelled like beer, and had the words “party robot” written on the back of it in magic marker. I didn’t think of it at the time, but I wonder if Jeff and my phone became friends in those two weeks. I wonder what kind of fun they had together, and what trouble they got into.

These thoughts started to drift away as I woke up and found a new phone next to me. It was a newer phone, and had GPS, and the alarm was playing “Going to California”, so that’s what we did. I followed the little yellow line on the GPS that said where to go, and we made our way across the country. But the whole time I could see on the screen that my old phone and Jeff were drinking and making prank calls back in Massachusetts. I felt really bad once I crossed the Mississippi river, like that meant that I was never going to see Jeff or my old phone again, but there was somewhere to go, and my new phone kept showing me the way, so I kept going.