I could have been on Cops...
I hardly ever got to throw parties when I was a teenager, because I was kind of a juvenile delinquent and my parents didn't trust me one bit. (rightfully so.) So imagine my amazement when they announced that they were going to china for a week in July and leaving me alone. Everything was in place, my brother, who is a complete douchebag and would most definately have dropped the dime on me if he was there was at summer school, my sister who is very nice but prone to annoying fits of integrity was working in Colorado at a summer camp, so I had free reign. We kicked off the party with just my close friends and 6 flats of Milwaukee's Best. After some serious alcohol consumption we decided it would be a great idea to get some meat, then dig a huge pit in my backyard and roast it all over an open fire. We needed fuel for the fire so we raided a neighbor's house that was under construction and took all the wooden pallets that they had, which ended up making a stack about as tall as a person. Needless to say the meat was inedible because of all of the gasoline we used to start the fire, but the fire had an unexpected benefit of attracting just about every single young person in the area. Now my house was full of all kinds of strange people I had never met before, but I was far too drunk to care. Out of the blue at about 4 AM, my best friend comes up, furious that his bag of weed was missing. Now instead of chalking it up to loss, or blaming one of the dozens of random strangers running around, he becomes convinced that I was the one who stole it. I suppose heavy drinking combined with enough meth to keep an army awake will do that to you. I was just sober enough to keep calm and gently explain that I never touched his bag, and that I would be glad to help him find it, or even buy him a new bag if he needed it. This was not good enough. A few drunken swings at me later, and a couple that actually connected, the limits of our friendship were being seriously tested. i earned some points with the other people at the party by actually being able to restrain myself from hitting him back. When my other friends tried to calm him down, he swung at them too and then wrestled free, got in his car, and sped off, yelling obscenities over his shoulder, most of the mdirected at me to the tune of "I can't believe I wasted my life being friends with you you motherfucker." I was worried as hell, but far too drunk to drive after him, so I called his cell phone a few times. No answer, but a few minutes later he called me back with another stream of obscenities, and this time accusing me of making him drive drunk and that he had now blown a tire and it was all my fault. I asked him where he was, and was barely able to make it out with all the cursing he was doing, while vehemently denying that he needed my help, and besides, even if he did I would be the last person he would take it from. In spite of that, and the probably close to .30 BAC in my system, I got in my car to go help him out before he got himself arrested. Well, as much as I was trying to keep him from ending up in jail, he was apparently concentrating on doing whatever he could to get himself there. When he realized who it was pulling up behind him, he got out still cursing, but this time holding a tire iron. First he threatened to smash all of my windows in, then threatened to hit me in the face. I didn't back down, but instead yelled at him to fucking try it. At this point some woman leaned out of her window and shouted that if we didn't shut up she would call the police. In our only moment of solidarity of the entire night we both yelled "shut up you cunt" at exactly the same time. Well she made good on her promise, and a few minutes later the police showed up. Luckily by then the adrenaline had sobered me up enough that I was able to speak for both of us and explain that no there was no problem here and yes that tire iron was only being used to fix the flat and no I did not want to press any charges. They looked suspicious, but left us alone once I promised to drive my still crazed friend home after locking his keys in his car. He woke up the next morning with apparently no memory of what had happened the night before, but did manage to ask me, "I think I did something terrible last night, have you seen my car?" He still owes me big. I was now left with the monumental task of cleaning up, which I was in no mood to do, so i raked all the beer cans to a corner of my yard, filled in the still smoldering hole, and made my escape to Colorado to take shelter with my sister so that I was safely 2000 miles away when I got the inevitable "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY HOUSE?!?!" call from my parents. They never left me alone again.
(raulduke, Tue 18 Apr 2006, 22:10, Reply)