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I had several run-ins with people acting Under the Influence ...
Well, the background story is that my grandfather was a successful entrepreneur in the 1920s. Then the Depression hit, and he hit the bottle, and after the Mellons reposessed the business, he stayed on to make sure the Mellons' new business ran efficiently ... all the while supporting 8 other people on $26 per week. My grandmother has never gotten over it, and she's 90 now.
The first time I "went drinking", I discovered that my liver does not process alcohol properly. Instead of converting ethanol to glucose, it converts ethanol to formaldehyde. Since I wanted to see what it was like to be drunk, I had about five shorts (7.5 oz) of hard liquor instead of having lunch. I had a freak-out similar to Peter Fonda in The Trip, except that was a movie, and I had a much milder (and more positive) reaction to LSD.
My first girlfriend had been dating an alcoholic, when he died one night from drinking too much. I think it was three or four bottles of wiskey consumed on an empty stomach (because he liked his drinks straight, I guess, not that I should talk). She became an alcoholic herself and dumped me on the advice of her therapist who convinced her that I was what was making her drink.
I was in two car accidents caused by other drivers' drinking. The first was a fender-bender-plus, and their attorney kept calling me to harass me.
The second was a blitzed high school girl who ran a red light as I was running a green light. No car for 6 months for me -- I was unemployed at the time due to another alcohol-related incident, and found it difficult to find another job without a car after I healed up from the two incidents. She got a brand new sports car to console her after the judge convicted her of DUI and sentenced her to ARD (Accelerated Rehabilitation and Disposition).
That other incident happened a few months before the second car accident. I was out seeing the band some friends of mine had when a drunk started screaming that I was a "faggot", and as I looked over to see what the commotion was, he jumped on me and began whaling away like he had seen the devil himself. He had about a foot and 150 pounds on me, and nearly killed me.
So that second car accident was the first time I had been out in months.
Then there was the time when a boyfriend of one of my girl-hyphen-friends tooted up a huge amount of crank, followed by a six-pack and an entire bottle of vodka. He crawled out the window onto the roof, crying like a baby and threatening to kill himself, and I ended up crawling out there with him convincing him not to jump off.
Then, about 12 years ago, I was working as a clinical neurophysiology tech, and was called to Childrens' Hospital (in Philly) to trace the damaged nerves of a child who had nearly been killed when her drunk father decided to duke it out with a truck. The test, called a Somatosensory Evoked Potential series, is usually very painful for a child, kind of like a 90-minute long medically-approved spanking. The little girl was a mangled mess with every limb broken in at least five or six locations, was in a complex back brace and her head was in an immobilizer. None the less, she didn't shed a tear, laughed when I told her a joke, and after the test was over, I immediately went home and laid on the floor for most of the evening, soaking the rug through, and later informed my friends that if I ever caught wind of them drinking, they'd have more to fear than a DUI.
You might think I'd be beyond rage with you. I am not. You did some stupid shit, you wised up, you learned. That's the best outcome any serious drinker can hope for.
Bear witness. Help out drinkers with greater problems and addictions. Educate those who will listen.
Good luck.
--bkl
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