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Ruptured fabric
Contributed by: Trey Miller on 7/24/2007

Ruptured Fabric
Trey Miller

Happenings and events that make up our lives are constantly woven into a sort of quilt of our life, no knot is the same due simply to the fact that no moment in our lives is the same as another. The fabric of my life has one knot in it that I consider myself to be very lucky to have, but what sort of life would I be living right now had that one particular knot been knitted in a different way? Let me untie that knot, the knot representing the night I received a Minor in Possession ticket, and lets relive that night in a completely new way.

The point at which I choose to begin rewriting my timeline is one specific moment, the moment the beer arrives at the house. As my friends greedily tear open the outside covering to reveal the goodies inside, instead of taking one beer as I had that night, I take two. Suddenly everything takes a change, for the worst. I quickly drink the first but struggle to chug the second so fast, I never was the best drinker. The second beer is finally downed by the time the familiar "DIBS FIRST GAME!" is shouted over the voices of everyone else. Beer Pong is apparently important enough for us teenage males to use the "Dibs" method, the primary method we use to equally have a chance at getting something, barbaric really. Today however, perhaps with the aid of the second beer, I was the one to shout that call for first game, as it had happened in my actual reality, but this time things would be different.

My friend Patrick and I settled in for the game, the beer was poured, and we were lazily tossing the ball at the opposing teams partially filled cups in order to pass the time. As the final beer was drained from the can into the cups, the game began. The game itself has many intricate rules that vary from groups of friends to groups of friends, but one thing stays constant, winning team stays on the table.

Tonight Patrick and I are on fire, we quickly breeze through four games without a hitch. For me, two games of beer pong is enough to be laughing and enjoying myself at a much greater volume than anyone else, as I said, I'm the bad drinker. The fifth game at the pong table is where things start to head south, as I watched the opposition holding their balls in the shooting position, arm slightly swaying in a motion to shoot, tongues laid out sideways across their faces in concentration, I was confident that they weren't going to make the shot.

The ball is let loose, and sure enough I hear the sound of the ball hitting liquid, they had sunk a cup. My teammate who had just been speaking with a friend to his left missed the shot, but I had seen the whole thing, and with a solemn acceptance, I removed the ball from the beer cup in my hand that they had already made two turns earlier, an automatic game over. We had lost.

Turning away from the table after chugging the rest of our beer, I have a sudden familiar feeling in my stomach, and I instinctively rushed to the bathroom knowing darn well what was to come. However, I never did make it to that bathroom, that second beer I had drank at the beginning of the night had finally taken its toll.

Nearing the door to the bathroom, a sudden commotion erupted out on the porch and after a few moments of confusion, it became clear that I had more important things to worry about than puking. Red and Blue lights could barely be seen on the walls of the porch as scrambling kids were running into each other and out the gates in perfect view of the police watching.

I knew that though many of those kids had already gotten away that way, the cops would be quick to block off that exit, I needed another one. I sped up the stairs and into the parent's bedroom, automatically I began shakily releasing the locks on the window.

BANG! BANG!

"Open up, Arapahoe County Police!"

I was opening the window right above the police one story below, and in a terrified, drunken rush I sprinted across the roof and prepared myself for the drop. I hit the ground with a thump and roll to break the fall a bit, even with so many beers in me I have had a knack for keeping my eye hand coordination, though I cant say as much for other things, like judgement. However, I was on the other side of the fence, away from the police, who now aware of my presence were sending one of their own to catch me.

scrambled to my car, practically rip the door off in haste and quickly jump inside locking the doors behind me. Seconds later I find myself hurtling down a street in Willow Creek, I had done it, I had gotten away! The joy I felt was almost so overwhelming that I nearly hit the road block at the end of the street, but the joy had disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. Trapped, I was trapped, too drunk to even try a maneuver here, I wait in a kind of self-hating agony as the officer at my window asks me to "Blow into this for me sir".

Looking back at it now, getting an M.I.P. isn't so bad after all, things could have gone so much worse. Although there's a lot of sense in telling your kids not to drink and drive, that only protects them from a DUI, in order to truly eliminate any chance of putting your child in harms way, just tell them, don't drink.



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CONTRIBUTOR INFORMATION

Trey Miller

Englewood , CO

Trey Miller has posted 1 story and 0 comments since joining on 7/24/2007. Trey Miller 's average story rating is 0.
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