Part 1 Starting By Not Starting

This is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside..….no wait. That’s the Fresh Prince. This is a story about how I managed to stop being drunk all the time. That was the first step, of three, that helped to change my life in the space of one year.

Let’s start at the beginning of what I would call my new life. 2010. Over the next 4 or 5 years I stopped being drunk, fat and sad. But it all started with giving up the drink.

It didn’t end well, 2010. Kind of a crap ending actually. Like the ending of Tom Cruise’s attempt at War of the World’s. Okay you are right. Nothing could end as badly as that movie.

Closing in on Christmas twenty ten and it was typical me. Get a drink. Then get another. Then get a whole crap load of drinks. Get them in me as fast as I could and then get more. It wasn’t just enough to be drunk. I had to be the drunkest. It was a competition. My chance to show I was better than everyone around me. Better at being drunk. Although definitely not better at being a decent human!

Oh, you think you can drink? I’ll show you!!

But before we get too deep into the end of my career as a drunk let’s start with a few warm up stories so you can get an idea of what I was like as a drinker.

New Year’s Eve.

1999.

We were at a hotel for a massive party to send the millenium out with a bang and to signal our intent for the new year. Basically my intent was the same as always. Party. Work as little as possible. Try and find someone who could stomach having sex with me. (more on that in part 2 where I will tell you about riotous laughter at my expense because I was fat as well as how I stopped being fat) Stomach. Ha. I just made a pun. Cause my massive stomach was pretty off-putting. You get it.

I wasn’t a terrible human being. I don’t think. There was the person inside me that I am today. He just struggled to show through. Being, as he was, buried under 100 pounds of fat and sadness.

I remember one time being really drunk at a house party and somehow, someway, (too drunk to remember the next day how it happened) getting a really sexy woman named Stephanie into a bathroom with me for some fooling around. Until I stumbled on the bathtub, fell backwards and crashed into the tiled wall with the mightiest of thuds. My chance at hooking up with Stephanie (at that time, sadly, hooking up seemed like the only important thing to do with a woman) crashing to the ground with a similar thud.

There was a time I was at a bar with a bunch of friends. Shots. Doubles. Triples. Me telling a woman in a Bon Jovi shirt that I wanted to lay HER down in a bed of roses. She declined. Another time at the same bar I licked a woman’s face. Grabbed her head and held it in my hands and then licked her cheek. Class. I was a menace to anyone in my field of view.

But back to New Year’s Eve 1999. I remember falling for a woman I had never met simply because she was pretty and wearing red. After spending what seemed like hours getting the DJ to play “Lady in Red” she danced with someone else. (later that night she tried to do a backflip and didn’t successfully rotate all the way which definitely didn’t make me feel any better) (It kind of did.) (I mean, call me an asshole but the thud she made when hitting the ground was sort of therapeutic.)

I don’t remember what happened the rest of that night. Or the next day. But I definitely threw up. I’m pretty close to 100% that I grabbed some asses. And I didn’t get laid.

That was a VERY typical night for me in the 00’s.

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