The Night That Defined Me As A Parent, Part II
part I
Since it was my first time ever being drunk, I did not register it at all. As far as I was concerned, I was feeling happy, walking down the streets of my favorite city, having an intellectual conversation with a refined, older man. In the meantime, something strange happened to my judgement, as I found myself agreeing to increasingly bizzarre stuff.
"Are you cold?" Max asked me.
Damn, he was right! I hadn't even noticed that I was freezing. Aw, what a nice, caring guy.
"This is my house," he said. Wow, what a coincidence. What are the odds, right? "It's still a long time till they raise the bridges. Why don't we go up to my apartment, have some coffee, and then walk on to the river?"
Coffee, great idea. I happily agreed. We walked into a huge apartment. I was introduced to Max's mother, who scurried away in a hurry. We went into Max's room. In the room I saw a lonely bed, a coffee table, some chairs. As it usually is in a Russian intellectual's lair, the room was crawling with books.
"I'm going to go make coffee," Max said to me. "Here, read this." He thrust a largish book at me and was gone.
Bookworm as I was, I found I could not read what Max had given me. First off, it was in Finnish. Also, there was hardly anything in it to read. The book consisted mostly of black-and-white photos of naked men and women in uncomfortable positions. I turned the pages, confused and unsure what to make of this.
Max came back with the coffee.
"I just had an idea," he offered suddenly. "We don't have to see the bridges tonight. You look tired. Why don't we stay here for the rest of the night, have a good night's sleep, and go see the bridges some other time?"
Had I been sober, I would have asked why I had to sleep at Max's apartment and not at my aunt's two blocks away. But, like I said, something weird had happened to my judgement. I found myself nodding and agreeing. Max brought me a phone and I called my aunt's neighbor, who watched over me, and told her that I was spending the night with my girlfriend. She said okay.
"You sleep on the bed, I'll sleep on the floor," Max decided. "The shower is round the corner."
I went into the shower, but was confused. In my parents' house, we never showered before sleep. I threw some water on my face, came back, and got into bed.
Five minutes later, Max started complaining.
"This is my room, why do I have to sleep on the floor? Can you scoot over?"
Of course I could.
Next thing I knew, I was in some random apartment, in a random bed, and a random naked guy was in bed next to me. The guy was actively grabbing at my private parts, breathing heavily.
Suddenly, sobriety hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was in deep shit, I realized.
part III
Since it was my first time ever being drunk, I did not register it at all. As far as I was concerned, I was feeling happy, walking down the streets of my favorite city, having an intellectual conversation with a refined, older man. In the meantime, something strange happened to my judgement, as I found myself agreeing to increasingly bizzarre stuff.
"Are you cold?" Max asked me.
Damn, he was right! I hadn't even noticed that I was freezing. Aw, what a nice, caring guy.
"This is my house," he said. Wow, what a coincidence. What are the odds, right? "It's still a long time till they raise the bridges. Why don't we go up to my apartment, have some coffee, and then walk on to the river?"
Coffee, great idea. I happily agreed. We walked into a huge apartment. I was introduced to Max's mother, who scurried away in a hurry. We went into Max's room. In the room I saw a lonely bed, a coffee table, some chairs. As it usually is in a Russian intellectual's lair, the room was crawling with books.
"I'm going to go make coffee," Max said to me. "Here, read this." He thrust a largish book at me and was gone.
Bookworm as I was, I found I could not read what Max had given me. First off, it was in Finnish. Also, there was hardly anything in it to read. The book consisted mostly of black-and-white photos of naked men and women in uncomfortable positions. I turned the pages, confused and unsure what to make of this.
Max came back with the coffee.
"I just had an idea," he offered suddenly. "We don't have to see the bridges tonight. You look tired. Why don't we stay here for the rest of the night, have a good night's sleep, and go see the bridges some other time?"
Had I been sober, I would have asked why I had to sleep at Max's apartment and not at my aunt's two blocks away. But, like I said, something weird had happened to my judgement. I found myself nodding and agreeing. Max brought me a phone and I called my aunt's neighbor, who watched over me, and told her that I was spending the night with my girlfriend. She said okay.
"You sleep on the bed, I'll sleep on the floor," Max decided. "The shower is round the corner."
I went into the shower, but was confused. In my parents' house, we never showered before sleep. I threw some water on my face, came back, and got into bed.
Five minutes later, Max started complaining.
"This is my room, why do I have to sleep on the floor? Can you scoot over?"
Of course I could.
Next thing I knew, I was in some random apartment, in a random bed, and a random naked guy was in bed next to me. The guy was actively grabbing at my private parts, breathing heavily.
Suddenly, sobriety hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was in deep shit, I realized.
part III
