Back to the Grind of School

I really needed a job and my mom came through. I got a full time job working at a paint factory filling drums full of paint. It took absolutely no skill to do the job based on the fact that two of the fillers couldn’t even spell there name. I would spend hours standing by empty drums, waiting for them to be full. The place smelled like crap but it was a nice income for a summer job. The best part was cashing my check on Fridays. We would head to the liquor and grab a bottle of mad dog or some other crap and guzzle it down before we got to work. The nice buzz would make the rest of the day go by quickly.

That was a weird summer overall. I was living with my dad but I didn’t hang out with any of my old friends. I started hanging out with some people from his neighborhood and it turned into a real routine. Get home, eat supper, hang out for a while, play cards, drink, play stupid drinking games. This cycle repeated endlessly until something cool happened. Jenny came along.

She is the stepsister of my friend Chris and was smoking hot. She was gonna be a senior so was a couple of years younger but who cares. She was smoking hot. She started to hang out with us and next thing you know we were flirting and such. I wasn’t really sure if anything would happen other then some heavy petting because I knew she was going back to Nebraska or what every state it was that she lived. Anyway, the fact she was leaving didn’t deter her but may have given her motivation. We promised to keep in touch but I didn’t keep my end of the bargain.

In August, school started and I went in with an open mind. I had a smaller schedule and figured that soccer would help keep me focused and I think it did for the most part. And to go along with it, the soccer team was much better. The coach did a little recruiting and gave us the ability to compete that season. He also set up a couple of road trips which helped us bond together as a team.

Our first trip was to the Milwaukee area. I have no idea who we played but we spent the night in Kenosha right across the highway from “The Brat Stop”. Now the drinking laws in Wisconsin allowed anyone who was 19 before the end of September of that year to drink so many of the players on the team were of age. So our first act of team work was to walk over to The Brat Stop and check it out. They carded everyone so we ended up buying a few cases of beer and headed back to the hotel to get loaded up. SO imaging this picture…16 guys walking along the highway carrying 4 or 5 cases of beer…now imagine it if you are a cop.

He turned on his cherries and pulled up along side of us with a screech. We were a little freaked but we kept calm as he questioned us along the highway. He asked us all for our IDs and then checked to see who was carrying the beer. Lucky for us that everyone with a case was also of age. He eventually asked us where we were staying so we told him the hotel and our room numbers. He promised to check up on us later. I’m sure he wasn’t surprised when he knocked on the door of “our room” to find someone other than us staying there.

The next day we played another random team and finished our left over beers during the ride back to campus.

Our other trip took us to downtown Milwaukee. We played a local college team and went to a team supper right in the middle of town. After dinner coach says it’s ok if we hang out for a while but to get back early because we have a game at 10:00. 8 or 10 of us head down the street and wave to coach as we go. We found Major Goolsby's and started the evening by drinking fast and hard. At some point we realize we need to start heading back but get sidetracked at some dive. By the time we leave it is 3:30 and we have to walk 30 blocks back to the hotel. We stumble down the street and find a parking lot that offers a distraction along the way. One of the guys pulls on a door handle…it opens…there is a set of keys in the ignition. We all pile in and drive back to near the hotel. As we rumble to our rooms we see a line of sailors outside a door. Now we know sailors get lonely and are more than willing to pay for a little action so it wasn’t a surprise ay all. The Gilbert starts calling them fags and queers because they have to pay for it. A security guard comes around the corner and our coach opens up the door and tells us to get to our rooms. Gilbert continued his assault by yelling out the window but eventually drifts off to sleep.

Morning came and the hangover was heavy. We headed to the game and coach got even. None of the drinkers got a break and he made me play center forward. We lost 7-0 and slept most of the way home.

My focus was gone after the season. I quit doing to classes in November and took a job at the paint factory in January. I had no direction other than working and partying.

Where does it go from here?...