CATEGORY 4

And I wake up, and I call my buddy Markman. It’s June 11th, a special day, and I haven’t seen Markman in two years. And I ask Markman how he’s been, and suddenly it’s my turn to answer the same question, and I say “I’m doing really good, actually, I’ve really toned down on the drinking lately, I’m hitting the gym, and I’m eating well, long work hours, but it’s all good, I’m making bank.”

It’s May 13th of the year before 2024, and I’m on the phone with my old friend Jacquie Gonzalez, and I tell her, “I’ve really toned it down, I’m like still drinking, but you should have seen me back then, I’m not drinking like I was back then.” “I’m proud of you!” she says. Everybody is proud of me; everyone should be proud.

I think on the 14th of a different June, I blacked out, and shortly after, on July 4th, I blacked out again. If I remember correctly, last week or the week before, I was on a bender.

But on December 21st of 2022, I told my new coworker that it was surreal how much I had cut down on the drinking. You should have seen me in the summer of 2021.

It’s June 11th of 2021, I wake up with a crazy hangover, walk over to my kitchen counter, open a half-drunk bottle of whiskey, take two shots, and eat a banana for breakfast. I text the group chat: “I just had two shots for breakfast lol,” I sit on my computer and work on some photos. Finally, hungry and able to eat food properly, I make myself a sandwich, heat it up, and follow it with two pickles. I also make that ramen that I like, and pour myself a drink that I drink, because I can’t eat without a drink. Full and ready to tackle the world, I decide I need a shower; it’s two pm. So I start bumping my music that my neighbors hate and take a swig from the bottle to truly enjoy the shower/music combo I got going on. And I sing and dance in the warm shower until I come to a complete stop and stare into the abyss, and a memory comes back to me, a memory from a time before, a memory that I wish I didn’t have, and the memory of a wish that I wish I didn’t have and I wish I didn’t make. I don’t remember what I did last week or the week before, what classes I took last semester, but I remember the memory. And I continue to stare and stay still until tears begin to drip out of my eyes, but it could very well be the shower, but it’s not the shower, and I begin to sob.

I get a call.

“Are you busy? Let’s go to Walmart.”
“Okay, but you drive.”
I’m drunk, and she can’t tell, or at least I like to think so. And I’m drunk at Walmart, thinking, “What am I doing here?” She asks, “Don’t you need anything?” and I get a flashback of my empty fridge, but I say no. I can’t think straight. Actually, maybe I do need a bottle of Wild Turkey—and why don’t we get some beers too?

On a different day of a different month, I tell Roman, “You should have seen me, I used to REALLY drink a lot more,” as I take a swig.

Today I had a call from an important friend, and I said, “I’m drinking a lot less, I’m doing really good.” You should have seen me then.

Just two weeks ago, I found myself in Little Tokyo again, doing my “famous” Little Tokyo Speedrun, where I try to drink and spend as much as possible, ensuring that I regret it the next day. On this specific run, I had nothing to eat all day, and on the metro, my friend and I argued about our first stop. Hachioji felt like the best move since they have the best ramen, but for better or worse, they also have the Mega Beer, 34 oz of Sapporo for $9, a steal in Los Angeles. My friend convinced me to stop at Hachioji, but only for the beer before they closed, just so we could get a buzz going and really enjoy the next food stop. We drank our mega beers and hit the next spot, where we ordered a pitcher and two bowls of spicy ramen, which I absolutely devoured. Outside, I threw up on the sidewalk, a nearby plant, and a little bit on my friend's jacket. We cleaned ourselves in a nearby bathroom, and suddenly I was hungry again, ecstatic to eat another big meal. We stopped at Far Bar, where we had the wasabi fries and more beer. Stopped at Rakkan, where we had some sushi and more beer. Finally, at Mr. Ramen, for some reason, we began to argue and laugh and reminisce on all our adventures. But I became angry and threw a fit, and became the worst kind of drunk. “Let’s relax and have a beer at The Mermaid,” he said. I blacked out, don’t remember how I got home (I think we chased the Metro), and definitely regretted it the next day.

A success in my book.

But thankfully, I’m doing a lot better nowadays. I’ve cut down on the drinking, I’m working out, and eating well. I’m doing a lot better.

KJNFD