consumption addict

welcome to fabulous & exotic rhode island.

there are a lot of sketchy things afoot with my friends.

comings and goings. breakups and letdowns. addictions, personality dysfunctions, and even a little bit of recreational necrophilia.

just a little bit.

with all the craziness, at least i know there will always be people whose problems entertain me. for example, i have a friend who has a problem with her name. it seems that when anyone does a google search for her name the first few entries are all about her multiple DUIs. how embarrassing. what are the chances the HR geek at some job she wants won’t be running her name through the most popular search engine on the internet?

good luck with that, homie. i dedicate this clip to your misfortune:

you glum or something? huh, glummy?

now you may be thinking “damn, what an asshole. making fun of this chick because she has DUIs?”

i’ll admit – to the outside observer i may be a little cold blooded. however, what you don’t know is that i paid my dues looking out for this chick after that second arrest. more than a little bit of mean spirited humor at her expense is fair game. you see, after the rhode island state police yoinked her license, i agreed to play chauffeur for the summer so that she could get to work on the daily.

what a nightmare that was. first of all, homegirl drank like a fish (obviously) so she kept me plenty busy designated driving. the first time a drunk chick flings pizza boxes out the window of your moving car at unsuspecting pedestrians? funny as hell. the third time? i was scolding her like i was her daddy.

it was impossible to drive anywhere with her drunk ass (much less a state i had never so much as visited before). screeching and giggling and hollering inaccurate song lyrics? what in the fuck? the level of distraction was so high that i almost killed some kid on the road (“i know what you did last summer” style). seriously.

one rainy night in providence i’m pulling out of a parking spot with yappy-face yammering away sitting shotgun. as i’m imploring her to close her word hole, i hear a buzzing sound getting rapidly closer to the vehicle. before the sight of it could register completely in my brain, some assclown on a motor bike barrels down full speed towards the passenger side of the car. CRACK!

something like that…

the kid got lucky because his bike only hit the big ass front tire of the SUV i was driving. and i was extremely lucky to have watched this reprobate get thrown off his bike, float through mid-air about 3-4 inches above the hood of my car …hollering and flailing his arms and legs all the way… and land on the opposite side of my truck in a heap. the kid hopped right up and said “god damn.” i pulled the fuck out of there, no questions asked. of course my friend doesn’t remember this happening, even though she sat next to me through the whole incident.

even without the drunken madness of a close (but insane) friend, it was clear that rhode island was just not the right scene for me. i tried to look for a summer job in town while playing nursemaid to drunky. my first day out a bird shat right on my ear and shoulder. for a smarter man that should have been a good enough sign to leave. i am not that smarter man. instead i decided to hit up newport for a job.

not THAT newport.

later that same day i dipped over to newport, rhode island looking for bartending work. newport is the swankiest summer getaway for blue blood wasp types all over new england. not 2 blocks away from people on yachts calling each other “prescott,” “bradford,” and “muffy” some little white kids tried to rob me. ME! the big puerto rican from the bronx was the most natural target for them. it was the most hilarious failed robbery attempt ever.

EMINEM #1: you can’t be walking over here, mister. empty out your pockets and we’ll let you go by.
RICAN #0: what? you won’t do shit.
EMINEM #2: do what he said dickhead, this is our block.
RICAN #0: maybe. but you definitely won’t be robbing me. bye. (RICAN #0 walks away disgusted)

the final slight came when i tried to make it to the beach in rhode island. in the boiling sun i sat in saturday traffic, and then looked for a parking spot for 2 hours. finally, i got to the beach…towel in hand, ipod at ears, and upskirt camera locked and loaded. but when i made it to the stairs some cracker ass teenager asks me to see my beach pass. what’s that you say, little cracker? it’s a private beach? i can’t even lay on your fucking SAND?

then it hit me: i’m a BROWN person. and i’m in RHODE ISLAND.

and that was that. fuck friends with DUIs. i like to look out for my friends, but not so much that i’d put up with all that craziness. so to my homie with the google problem – i feel sorry for ya. i tried to help – i played my part… but you did EARN those DUIs, so you can’t be too mad at them haunting you for years to come. everyone has posted something online they wish they didn’t… and hey – at least i didn’t use your name in this blog, erika.