One night we went out with his old roommate Richard. I drank:
The worst drinking started after our first month on the lease. I wrote an essay examining the stress in my life and I had it with me at the coffee shop one night. I'd gone into detail about the money issue and my concern about rent. Cris' friend Mark read it and said, "If it wasn’t after two, I’d offer to buy you a beer." At which point Cris reached across the table and started reading. Mark gave me an "Oh, shit. Are you ready for what is about to happen?" look.
I tried to make idle chat with Mark while Cris read. At one point, he said under his breath, "Is this me?" After reading it, he leaned over and said, "Your math is off; I make as much as you do." And walked away.
Two things I wanted to say:
"Oh, so you spend it faster." And...
"So where is it?"
Two things I didn’t say because things were bad enough already. Mark offered me a piece of paper with some numbers on it. "If things get rough, give me a call," and walked off to comfort Cris.
That’s when my friend Dan told me I was the kind of girl he’d marry...if he had to.
"Why did he walk away? Why is he over there? He should be talking to you. That’s the stupidest thing I ever saw." Dan’s words.
So I came home about 3 and didn’t sleep. That’s how I know Cris came home at 8. I can’t blame him. That was a Thursday morning.
That Thursday afternoon I went out on my lunch break and bought a bottle of CHEAPO RUM. By cheap, I mean the screw top cap and plastic squeezy bottle.
I left work and went down to the coffee shop to talk to Mark. Mark is really a friend of Cris’, but he’s been of remarkable support to both of us. He’s a very mellow guy and even put up with me when I was being REALLY psycho.
After that, I went home and got shit-faced. Three or four swigs in the parking lot and then five shots in the kitchen. It’s a cheap way to gain the courage to talk to someone without a script. Very little was resolved and Cris drew a skull and cross-bones on my rum bottle with the words "Poison and Shit" in 3-d letters.
Worst part was, I can remember everything. Walking unevenly to the back bathroom ("It’s cleaner..."), cleaning the toilet (to which Cris said, "You’re going to be projectile vomiting into it, not licking it."), the puking process, passing out on the floor, waking up two hours later, telling Cris he was a coward, Cris telling me to shut up...I remember it all.