Get Outta My Car!
Larry and I were driving home from Linda’s one night after his band had been playing. I’d spent the majority of the night talking to Ronnie. I was drunk and buzzing on a bit of cocaine Ronnie had provided as well.
“I wanted to sing tonight,” I slurred at Larry. I wasn’t even sober enough to stand upright.
“I wanted you to sing,” Larry said. “Don’t you fuckin’ remember? I asked you after the first set!”
“Asked me what?” I did not remember the first set or anything thereafter. I was beyond wasted; I was obliterated.
“You were too busy makin’ eyes at that fuckin’ guy to answer me!”
Making eyes? I didn’t even know what that meant. And I didn’t remember any guy except Ronnie. “What guy?”
“You know exactly what I’m fuckin’ talking about!” Larry huffed. “Don’t play stupid with me!”
Play stupid? I really didn’t understand what he was saying tonight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! And I’m not stupid!”
“You are fuckin’ stupid if you don’t fuckin’ know what I’m talking about!” Larry bellowed. Suddenly he careened off the road, sliding a bit in the snow before screeching to a halt.
“What the fuck?!” I yelled at him; I’d nearly dropped my cigarette.
“Get outta my car!” he screamed. “Get the fuck out of my fuckin’ car! You can fuckin’ walk home!”
It was the dead of winter and freezing cold outside. I did not want to get out of the car, so I just sat still. But I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Fuck you!” I said.
“Fuck you, ya fuckin’ cunt! Get outta my fuckin’ car!”
I got out of the car. My teeth chattered before he even pulled away.
I was wearing my leather jacket but no gloves; as usual, no underwear or socks. I hadn’t planned on being outside in the snow, nor had I expected to be outside at 3:00 in the morning.
I started walking, having absolutely no idea where I was going. I just shuffled along. When I reached a spot under an overpass where the snow hadn’t fallen, I sat down on a curb. I supposed I could sleep there, but it was awfully cold. What if I froze to death overnight?
I really didn’t want to freeze to death; my parents would hate that.
My parents, I thought. It’s warm at my parent’s house. I looked around and saw light in the distance. So I got up and started shuffling again, aiming for the light. I walked for a much longer time than expected.
It turned out to be a convenience store – with a payphone outside. I checked for change. Nothing. So I dialed zero.
My mother picked up the phone.
“Collect call from Kristen, will you accept the charges?”
“Yes.” Click. “Kirsten?”
“Mom? Larry left me on the side of the road and I’m cold. I just need a place to stay for the night.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the CoGo’s in Turtle Creek.”
My mother covered the phone with her hand while she talked to my dad. I waited, too drunk to think.
“Daddy’s coming to get you,” she said. “Stay there.”
I stayed there. I didn’t have anywhere else to go.
My dad picked me up and drove me to their house, maybe 10 minutes away. We didn’t talk much.
I passed out immediately.
When I woke sometime in the afternoon, my mom drove me to Pitcairn. We didn’t talk much either.
Probably they both just saved my life. I hope I said thank you.