Let’s be honest here. I was at rock bottom.
I did get to that level. And they do say once you reach that level it’s a bit easier to quit drinking. You bottom out and maybe that bug of having to drink or whatever is out of your system. Everyone’s own personal “rock bottom” will be different and all equally valid.
I mean, you’ve read some of my stories so far. How many times in those stories have you thought, ’well that has to be rock bottom for this guy?’ but it never was until it was, you know? I guess what I am saying is that you have to be ready to quit.
The fact that I wasn’t ready to quit after some of my shenanigans though is mind blowing. I once got very intoxicated (shocker I know) at a nightclub in a giant ass mall. In fact, I believe it was my 30th birthday. So that would have been just months before I quit drinking. A few friends and I drove to Edmonton to party it up and stay in the hotel that was attached to the giant ass mall. Cause it isn’t a giant ass mall until it has it’s own hotel. With themes to each floor. I think we were on the horsey floor.
We went out starting a strip club if I remember correctly (and there is a really good chance that I don’t) where I had a few private dances. Which were not cheap. I was burning through money like crazy. Next stop the hotel. Then the nightclub at the other end of the mall. A mall we could walk through even though it was late and the mall was closed. I guess when your mall has a casino and a nightclub and a hotel it’s never really “closed”.
So there we are partying in this club in the mall. It’s a big club. Several levels or tiers. Lots of stairs. A DJ really getting into on an elevated stage. I remember a lot of loudness. And then I remember some sort of ridiculous drink special. Again if memory serves. One dollar for a shot I believe? The shot waitress was gorgeous. I was drunk and sad and fat. So I bought her lots of shots. And my buddies did too. We all bought each other lots of shots. In total I believe the three of us spent around 300 dollars. On dollar shots!! And I think probably some well drinks. Doubles and the like.
Next thing you know old Michael Feeney has to take a number 2. But you can’t do that in a club. You just can’t. Don’t be that guy. Because as you can tell I was ALL class at this point in my life. But for whatever reason I drew the line there. At shitting in a nightclub. That was just beyond the pale.
Hmmm, what do I do? Gotta do this soon. Can’t do it here. I’VE GOT IT!!!
“I’ll be right back” I slurred. And took off.
I am a pretty smart guy and occasionally it comes through for me.
I could run quick back to the hotel. Do the duty and get back in no time. Except I almost instantly got really lost. Couldn’t find the hotel. Couldn’t get back to the club. Lost in a giant ass mall. (More of a season 2 Desmond/hatch type fun interesting Lost than a season 5 boring/wtf is going on Lost) I have to go. Bad. This is getting to be more and more of an emergency by the second.
Come on Michael We need to find this hotel. Quickly!
Anyway. Short story long I couldn’t find anywhere to go. Another story of me shitting my pants? Nope. Not this time. Because the “geniusness” struck again. If you can’t find anywhere to go to the bathroom and it’s an emergency and you are in a mall and no one is around…..what do you do? Well if you are me you stumble across one of those booths where you can put in some money and they take and then spit out a few pictures of you. It has everything. A little bench area. A privacy curtain. Tucked around a corner. No security guard in sight. Go for it.
And I did. As a supposedly mature 30 year old I went to the bathroom (and not the reasonably good in comparison #1) in a photo booth.
And no. I don’t remember what I did about wiping.
And that WASN’T rock bottom. So when I did finally reach that level I was ready to quit.
I just thought of another story from my drinking days and this one is set in Edmonton as well. This time I needed a ride but I couldn’t get or didn’t need a cab. I got a ride from a random person and her friend instead.
So here is me and my friend Trey deciding to walk back to our hotel in Edmonton. The problem? It was winter. We were drunk and walking home in jeans and t-shirts. IN Edmonton. IN WINTER.
Average daily low temperatures in Edmonton in December are….anyone? Minus 13 degrees celsius or 8.4 degrees American. Record low in December? Minus 48 or as the American’s would say minus 55 degrees. Minus 55 Degrees was a lesser known and substandard 90s Boy Band. Don’t google that though.
Anyway, so there we were cruising around on foot in Edmonton in the winter with inadequate clothing. Two caring young women took their lives in their hands to save our lives. (Because they didn’t know us or what we might do to them and then, as it still remains now, in the world we live? Women picking up two men on the side of the highway is super dangerous despite the fact that you’d have hoped we’d have reached a point by now where “civilization” was something to which we were living up. Rant over.)
I don’t know if we would have died that day but it was probably a LOT colder than booze would let us feel and I bet we would have at least been bitten by old Jack Frost.
So to whoever those wonderful people were I thank you. I thank you for the fact I still have all of my fingers and toes. Thank you for doing the right thing even though it may have been scary. I hope life has treated you well.