Black Out Brad
The blue sky and sunshine almost made me forget the frigged north blown showers that pummeled my makeshift shelter. The well-warn blue tarp protected against the poring rain, but the night air was so cold my breath would instantly condense on the inside, soaking my sleeping bag. After awaking in a strong knotted fetal position, the rest of the morning was spent warming myself beside a pond on a sunlit bench, cradling warm tea, watching the ducks, and attempting to dry my possessions. This utopia, however, was short lived and I had to meet Mark for an early morning train ride further south.
We departed to train around 2:00 PM and wondered the new city of Rotterdam in search of a hostel for Mark and an alley or park for myself. The dorm Mark chose had free luggage storage and a much needed clothes dryer in the downstairs basement. I programed the dryer for Sahara and left for local homeless hangouts to ask around for good sleeping grounds, but on my way I came across the perfect spot in some nearby city garden. Then, returned to Mark’s hostel to check on the status of my clothing where I found trouBle with a capital “B”. Yes my friends, that “B” was a full bottle of Bacardi Rum in another hostel guests hands. He invited me to sit and watch some television and indulge in a few drinks of his Bacardi.
I was one cup short of finishing the bottle with my new companion before Mark wondered in to join us. Realizing there was not enough booze to go around we decided to head out and find a liquor store. In most cases my small body is more than capable to handle this volume of liquor, but because of the absence of food this day and my lack of sleep the night before; this wasn’t going to be one of those cases. I completely blacked out shortly after leaving the basement…
In my entire life, I have only blacked out for this length of time, once. In the safety of my own home in Chico — I was dared to finish a yellow tinted toxic bum wine, that literally turned your mouth black, called Thunderbird. The alcohol caused me to end up naked upon the lawn of an identical looking house, half a mile away from my own. But that is a story for later.
… so I awoke in a weird sleepwalking state down the side of a sidewalk, recalling a dream of me as a ninja running along the rooftop and hopping into the street. At first it was quite normal and relaxing, moonlit stroll along a city landscape. Then, I slowly started recognizing that this walk was real and not a dream. I wasn’t sleeping… How did I get here? Where is my backpack? Why is it night time? And most importantly, where the heck am I?
I desperately plunged my hand into my pocket and searched for a map, thankfully, it was there and allowed me to navigate my way back to the city center and to Mark’s hostel. Along the way I encountered a couple of Asian backpackers trying to locate a place to sleep and told them to follow me.
We pressed the front buzzer and the night watchman answered. Using the couple as a distraction, I rushed downstairs into the basement to grab the backpack I left. It was missing! Not knowing what room Mark was staying in I regrettably had to ask the night watchman.
“Get out of here!” he said.
“I just need to talk to my buddy and find my backpack. His name is…”
He interrupted, “I’ve already kicked you out once tonight!”
“What!?”
“Get out!” he screamed and thrust me out the front door and locked it with a sneer.
Totally confused, I had no choice but to stand outside until he finished signing the Asian couple up for a room. He then opened the door allowing me to speak. After much persuasion, he forced me to sign up for the night. Knowing full well that at the start of the night I only had 10 Euros, I told him that I couldn’t afford to stay. To prove my point I pulled out my wallet to show him, but it was bursting with over 50 Euros. Flabbergasted I payed the dorm fee and walked upstairs to find Mark.
“Hey Mark! Do you know where my backpack is?”
“Did you get my note?”
“No.”
“I gave you a note. Your backpack is right there.”
Needing to find out the entire story I dumbfoundedly walked down into the lobby to ask the night watchman what happened.
“I found you asleep in the kitchen and asked if you were staying here. You just got up and left without saying a word.”
Mark and I attended the complementary breakfast after a restful nights sleep. We agreed he would tell me the entire story during breakfast. We walked into the dining area where quite a laughing few guests reconignised me, and a few came up and shook my hand. “What the hell happened last night, mark?” I asked.
(For your consideration — Even though we insisted on the web site maintaining its PG-13 rating, we both concluded that there would be no other words to describe my actions other than that of, complete asshole. Sure, we contemplated a substitution for the word, jackass but it didn’t convey the complete lack of immorality and disrespect for others that I encountered.)
In the words of Mark here is what happened that day…
Will be continued in the next article. When he bloody writes it! Hurry up Mark!
May 10th, 2008
