William the Rummy

It was the last day of the season on the party boats and our afternoon trip was cancelled. Someone showed up and started handing out fifths (no matter how many times that I type that word, it still doesn't look right) of rum like they were candy.

Each captain got one a piece. I also received one. Billy got one. My good friend Tim actually ended up with a liter because the liquor store didn't have enough fifths for all of us. After we received the rum, we realized that we needed other supplies.....like pizza.

After we had a few pizzas delivered to the boat, we did what anyone would do...we put the boat away on its mooring. We then decided to sit there in the middle of the harbor, drink booze and eat our pizza over the course of the afternoon. Little did I know where my afternoon would take Billy and I...

After we all finished off our bottles of rum, we decided that it was time to get back to dry land before we did something stupid... like die. As we were getting into the skiff (the little 12 foot aluminum boat with an outboard motor that is used to get back and forth between the dock and the moorings) I decided that it would be funny to drive around with the skiff still tied up to the party boat. Of course, I didn't realize that Billy was trying to get into the skiff at the time.....well, yes I did but I did it anyways.

The next thing that I noticed (between laughing fits) was that Billy had fallen into the river and was hanging onto the rope that attached us onto the big boat. He was dragging in the river like a limp piece of seaweed. This other kid Spike, who worked with us, started to panic and threw him a "lifeline." Spike actually used a 1" line that we would use to tie up the 70-ton party boat with. After Spike threw the giant rope towards Billy, it then hit him directly in the head and knocked him free of the rope that he was holding onto. Luckily, I had my bearings about me enough to grab him by the scruff of the neck like a stray dog and swing him into the skiff as he was drifting by.

After that narrowly averted disaster, Billy and I wisely decided to go head home to my house.

Luckily, whoever was driving Spike home decided to give us a ride as well. Once we got there, Billy was quite drunk. I then guided him quietly into my bedroom and left him with specific instructions that if he were to puke, he was not to do so in there. He assured me that it wouldn't be a problem, so I then staggered off to take a shower. 10 minutes later when I wandered back in, our conversation went about like this....

(before I could say anything)

Drunk Billy- I didn't do it

Me- you didn't do what?

Drunk Billy- I did what you told me to

Me- you did what?

Drunk Billy- I didn't puke in your room

Me- I see that

Drunk Billy- I puked

Me- No, you didn't, you just told me so

Drunk Billy- I didn't puke in your room!!

Me- yeah, I see that, thank you

Drunk Billy- no, I puked

Me- where?

Drunk Billy- (lazily pointing towards the window) I didn't puke in your room

Me- you didn't puke out my window....did you?

Drunk Billy- (still pointing) I DIDN'T PUKE IN YOUR ROOM JUST LIKE YOU SAID!!!

Me- (looking at the window that he pointed at) aw, shit

Billy had two windows to choose from. Of course he chose the one that was RIGHT ABOVE MY LANDLORDS DECK!!

I stuck my head out, looked down and saw a colorful cascade of "stuff" that attached itself not only to the the side of the house, but to the deck as well.

As I was taking a shower, unbeknownst to me, the old man came home.

When I left my bedroom to get some water for Billy, he surprised me by saying....

Dad- what the hell is wrong with Billy? Is he drunk? I heard him mumbling to himself

Me- yup

Dad- (throwing me the keys to his truck) bring him home, ok?

Me- (incredulously catching the keys because I was drunk as well) sure! no problem!

I had decided that Billy was cleaning up his own puke. I didn't care how drunk that he was. I covertly threw a roll of paper towels out my back window so that HE could clean it up while we were on the way out.

When we got downstairs (after I carried him halfway down) I forced him onto the landlords porch. In his defense, he did try to clean it up but I had to stop him. He had bent over at the waist with a bunch of paper towels in his hand to clean it up and then proceeded to fall face first into his lake of puke. I then rescued him from drowning, blotted him dry, and parked him in the truck.


Yes, I cleaned it up and he still hasn't made it up to me!

Anyways, as we were driving home he was telling me to not turn, at all. I calmly explained that I had to turn with the flow of the road or we would die, but he didn't care. All I kept hearing was "If you follow that turn, I'm going to puke!"

My reply was "If you puke, you'll be getting out and walking from right here!"

Once we got to his house (without him puking) I pulled up to the end of the driveway. He insisted that I walk him inside. I did not agree.

Now, his father is a Navy Seal that did several tours in Vietnam. Not the kind of guy that you want to piss off especially when you are bringing his son home hammered! So, I wisely decided to let Billy get into his house all by himself.

I let him out of the truck and then proceeded to watch Billy wobble back and forth up the driveway bouncing off of the fence the whole way. He looked like a retarded pinball all the way to the house.

What I could see, and Billy couldn't, was that his Navy-Seal father was watching him the whole time through their double-glass doors that led into their living room. Billy staggered up, leaned against the glass and semi-passed out. His father, scowl intact, opened the door and Billy fell right at his feet. A few moments later, he wearily got onto all fours and crawled his way into the house.

I didn't stick around to see what happened after that but his parents were none too impressed with me after that.

Yeah, like I twisted his arm to make him drink.


ps- there is still a stain of rum, coke, and pizza that extend from my old window all the way down the side of the house...seriously