Alcohol

Ah yes, my friend Alcohol and I have had an interesting run the past 5 years. I say interesting only for the lack of a better term. I mean let's face it here, I've had the whole spectrum of emotions with booze.

There were the good times: The first time I drank, the second time I drank, the third time.....I am guessing the first 50 times never got dull. The first time I hooked up with a girl while drunk. Drinking at the Cubs game with my cousin, Drinking at the University of Iowa and going to a football game. Really the list goes on forever.

And of course you couldn't have the good without the bad, or odd: The first time puking, nope wait, any time I've puked. Blacking out, at U of I, twice! Dancing up on girls I had no business being within three feet of. Hooking up with girls who might not have without some help. Trying to fight a bouncer (at U of I no less). Hangovers. Hangovers that last a day. Anytime a girl crys while I'm drunk pretty much is never a real hoot. You get the point.

I've drank Jack, Jim, and Jose. I've drank Budweiser, Bud Light, and Budweiser select. Ive had irish carbombs, jagerbombs and cement mixers. Ive enjoyed martinis, margaritas, and pina coladas. At one time my drink of choice was McCormick's Vodka (mostly for economic reasons), which smell resembled that of a hand sanitizer.

Ive Beer Bonged, Shotgunned a beer, taken a shot, taken a double shot, chugged a pitcher, downed a flaming shot, licked spilt alcohol off a carpet (not kidding), and finished off a fifth by myself.

I am by no means an experienced drinker, and I can't hold an exorbitant amount of liquor. I've seen people who can, and my body is just not physically able to despite its polish ancestry. All those things that I have done are pretty typical, for a typical college student.

And through all of that I must truly say that I enjoy drinking (shockingly). No but seriously I love to drink. I have truly had some awesome times drinking, and it's some memories I'll never forget, and some memories I'll never remember no matter how hard I try. I have gained a healthy respect for it, and appreciate the fact that later in life I will be able to still enjoy alcohol, unlike some people, like my Uncle.

I'm sure at one time he enjoyed drinking as much as I did. Unfortunately for him, at some point in his life, having a jack and coke went from an enjoyable way to relax and have a good time to NEEDING a jack and coke in order to feel normal.

Most of us wake up in the morning and drag our half cloudy brains to the kitchen and grab some OJ or milk, and start making some breakfast. Uncle Bill goes to the kitchen, gets some coffee and begins his day off with some added Jim Beam. If he doesn't have some Jim Beam with his coffee he will begin to feel withdrawl symptoms, and for anyone aware of withdrawl symptoms, you understand why he needs to have his drink. By the end of the day (actually by the end of each and every day) he will have gone through a half gallon of Jim Beam on average. I'm sure if he's having a bad day he might push it to much more than that.

His physical deterioration has restricted him from being able to do many of the things he loves, like fishing with his nephews and even cutting his grass. The only time he leaves his house is to grab another boxfull of handles of Jim Beam. I've seen about four box fulls of empty Jim Beam boxes in his garage and a garbage can full of handles.

It's hard to imagine someone drinking so much alcohol, which is basically a poisonous substance in the body, and living to be 60, or even 50.

He is 50. or 52. something like that. I don't know how much longer his body can handle the daily bombardment it takes. It really can't be more than 10 years.

And as I reflect on that feeling of pity and helplessness, I just as soon take it back. He did this to himself, and if he truly had wanted help by now, he could have gotten it. I still look up to him as I always have, and I still love my uncle as I did when he showed me how to fish at 5 years old. I am just sad at his situation and what can happen to someone you love.

But I also owe him an ironic "Thank you", for teaching me a life lesson. Its not the cliched life lesson like "Appreciate time with your family" or "Don't have any regrets", although you can surely take that away from this.

No, for me, I learned how to appreciate alcohol (and many other things that can cause horrible addictions) as the double edged sword it is.

I just wish it hadn't come at the expense of my Uncle's life.

Eye Gouging and Job Hunting. (Hint: They are similar in nature)

There are few things in life that give me sharp, stabbing pains in my abdomen, by merely bringing the mental picture into my brain. The idea of an alien standing over my bed while I'm sleeping is one (You know those aliens that you see in 'Unsolved Mysteries', with the big black eyes, tiny nostrils, and long gangly fingers. Yeeeeuh.) Smegma is another (If you are wondering what this is, well, I'm sorry. Look it up on wikipedia, only at your own risk.) Oh and how could I possibly forget the old "Job Hunt".

Job Hunting for me, is only comparable to that of a weak, mentally challenged caveman hunting a real animal a million years ago. I'm imagining that the poor guy didn't eat and is now a poster boy for Evolution, Survival of the fittest, etc. Well in modern times I should be in the textbook next to anything defining "lazy", "bum", "comatose", "loafing", and even "sloth-like". I am the homeless man living in a home. The only difference between me and the real thing is the physical object of a house. and a shower. and food. Ok you get it. Its a metaphor.

It has been almost 8 months since my last full-time work as a server at an Italian Restaurant. Those 8 months have been about as enjoyable as Peter Gibbons from "Office Space" could only understand. When asked what he would do with a million dollars Peter responded " I would relax... I would sit on my ass all day... I would do nothing." Indeed Peter indeed.

So after fulfilling my 8 month dream of doing nothing, I figure its time to fight back at that thousand dollar credit card bill thats been building up. And of course since I've decided to start working again, there haven't been people coming out of the woodwok saying "ANDY! Come work here!" or "ANDY! We'd love to have you bring your occupational skills here. Heres my card".

No, no, the conversations have gone more like "Sorry, we're not hiring" or "Sorry you've failed the quiz".

Yes, indeed you heard that correct. I failed the QUIZ! at Chili's! The one hundred question quiz, with questions bordering on remedial math, 5th grade english (no joke about this, there were annalogies in the quiz! for CHILIS!), and of course the ever important personality test, is designed to WEED OUT the good from the bad potential workers. You know, like those who can do long hand divison, and who cant (Me). I scored a 26 on my act in high school, but apparently I recieved an 'F' on my Chili's test. I hope I don't have to put that on my college application, or else I am fucked.

And so tommorrow will be day 1 of my incredulous job hunt, where I will beat the odds, and wow the field of potential employers. They will look down upon my half completed, 5 year old handwritten and misspelled application and say "I want you!" because they see that Associates Degree from College of Dupage, and just know deep down that I will serve tables better than that guy who goes to real college, and DOESNT have a degree. I will go to twenty different employment locations and attempt to find the most elusive job and tackle it like a wild animal, just as my mentally challenged caveman counterpart would have (He's probably not intuitive enough to just use a spear or something, so he's resorted to tackling his food). And at the end I will have accomplished my impossible mission, and proved the doubters at Chili's wrong: I may have failed the "Chili's" test, but I will pass the "Get a Job at another restaurant" test

So wish me luck, as you would the retarded caveman, because we are both struggling against the odds.