My Surreal ChristmasA Story by JacquelineMy brother tends to Holly Jolly a bit too much during this time of year!
My Surreal Christmas
My drunken brother tried to tongue kiss me! My brother is an alcoholic, beer being his poison of choice. He has been known to f**k up a child’s birthday party, a bar-b-que, etc…after knocking back a case or so. He’s not snobby; a 40oz bottle of rot gut malt liquor is just as good as an import lager. He has little to no shame left as he’s slowly becoming the town drunk and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s directing traffic on a main street like the old town drunk (RIP) used to. My saying this isn’t to make light of his addiction, or to appear cold and unfeeling. I’m sort of ranting, and simply put, what I’m saying is the truth. About two days before Christmas, he went on his usual bender where his long suffering girlfriend calls to inform me that he hasn’t been home in hours. My job in the family is to play the peacekeeper/lion tamer so I’m the one who has to call him on his cell (and he almost always have to call me when he’s three sheets in the wind) and coax him to take his drink a*s home. It’s a sick and sad game we play; I ask him where he’s at, he sputters like a car full of bad gas. I try and make it seem like a good idea (that he thought of) to go home and I have to say that being drunk doesn’t automatically equal to being dumb. You may do some stupid s**t and say things that would take more than one apology to make right, but that doesn’t mean you are completely out of the loop as far as the situation goes. Needless to say, I always end my pleas (before he has a chance to hang-up) with an “I love you.” He’s not thinking about rehab, and I am not going to lecture him about getting help anymore. Again, this isn’t callousness on my part, but I have cried many nights, have images of him tattooed in my brain from the times he’s showed up on my doorstep battered after being jumped, have taken the collect calls from jail…I just can’t make myself sick anymore. He knows I love him. Ok, back to the story… I managed to get him to go home around 9pm only for him to leave the house again for another day and night of drinking Christmas Eve. I make the call, and this time it took me two times to reach him (he never answers his girlfriend’s calls, and sometimes makes me sweat before answering mine) and talk him into going home. Ok, back to the kiss (Ick!) Well, he calls me again around 4pm to announce that he and his girlfriend were coming over shortly and I could tell that not a drop of black coffee touched his lips. Some family members were nervous, but I hesitantly told him “Alright…” and exhaled. To his credit, he didn’t fall up the stairs (yes, there’s such a thing) to my apartment and somehow he wasn’t as impaired as I thought. He had been hinting that he wanted a new cell phone and I bought him one. (I received a scratch off lottery ticket-oh yea, our gift giving has always been lopsided…) Everyone was going to start eating after the presents were handed out and when he got his, he was mooning over it. He thanked me, being able to relay gratefulness through the alcohol haze and gave me a big hug and: “Ah sis, I love you! Thank you for this, man. Really, this is all I really wanted! I’m gonna give you a kiss!” And right as I was moving in for the hug and peck on the cheek, out of the blue I hear: “I’m gonna tongue kiss ya!” and at the right moment I tucked my lips in and turned my face fast enough so that stale beer slob landed on my left cheek. He laughed and the room erupted in groans and I excused myself from eating. Now, I must try to erase that disgusting episode from my mind, as well as swallow down the tiny bit of vomit that shot up my throat from reliving Christmas 2007. Yea, Merry friggen Christmas! © 2008 JacquelineReviews
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2 Reviews Added on February 10, 2008 AuthorJacquelineMineola, NYAboutI'm a mother, girlfriend, writer, bar friend keeper and gadgethound. I'm on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Tumblr and more. Trying to shake the rust off more..Writing
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