I had the pleasure of visiting Reilly for my annual trip to Fort Collins, Colorado, my old stomping grounds. He was married at the time and living in this beautiful 7,000 square foot custom house right on a water ski lake on the Northern end of town. The first night I touched down we drove straight from the airport to the Town Pump on College Street, where we proceeded to get blindly drunk on Jack Daniels and grain alcohol-soaked cherries. We staggered home around 3 am and mercilessly passed out. The next morning Reilly and Franny got up at 7am and shuffled off to work, hungover and half asleep, but I stayed in bed.
Franny had three awesome kids that I knew well, the youngest a curly-haired middle-schooler with a smiley disposition named Austin. Of course Austin was old enough to get himself up and on the bus to school, but on this particular day his alarm didn’t go off so he overslept. Franny and Reilly both assumed that he would get up and get to school on time like he always did, so they bounced to work. Their house was so big that you would rarely see other people except in the great room, and they just rushed off to work without checking the bedrooms.
Around 9am I got a call on my cell phone but ignored it because I was super hungover and trying to sleep. But someone kept calling again and again so finally I peeled my head off the pillow to answer it. It was Reilly, letting me know that Austin had missed the bus and I needed to drive him to school. Did I have to? Couldn’t he skip the day or get another ride? I protested vehemently because I was probably still technically drunk, but he assured me that all I had to do was drive him quickly to the parking lot, drop him off, and split. Easy enough.
Once I got up I ran to the bathroom and almost puked. I looked in the mirror as I splashed water in my face. Hot damn it wasn’t pretty: my short hair was sticking up at weird angles like a malnourished Chia Pet. My eyes were swollen and completely bloodshot. My skin tone was a lovely shade of green. Austin was up and ready to go so he grabbed his backpack and we headed for the door. When Austin saw what I was wearing he took a step back and looked at me funny. I was dressed in a pair of sweatpants that had served as my pajamas for the better part of a decade, splattered with paint stains and only coming down mid-shin. I was rolling commando. My outfit was complete with slippers and a white V-neck t-shirt that had shrunk in the dryer, leaving my little beer belly peeking out of the bottom. I asked Austin if I could shower and change before I brought him to school, but he said he was in a rush to get there before the next period, and that all I had to do was drop him off at the front entrance in the parking lot and I could take off. No problem.
I grabbed the keys to Reilly’s Escalade and we hopped in and drove off. The morning Colorado sunlight was blinding so I threw on a pair of Franny’s sunglasses that were sitting around the car. They were one of those big round pairs that made me look like Jackie Onassis. Austin directed me on the country roads towards his school. I drove very slow and straight because I was still buzzed and felt like I might need to pull over and puke any time. We finally reached the school and I navigated the Escalade through the parking lot, careful not to run over any little kids or hit their mommy’s Beamers, and pulled up in front of the main entrance with double glass doors. Austin said bye and thanks and jumped out. He ran into the school.
I checked my rear view mirror and changed the radio station, looking for some hip hop, but couldn’t find any, so I put the truck in drive. I was pulling off slowly when I saw Austin run back out and wave furiously. What was going on? I stopped the car and rolled down the passenger window. He ran up and gave me the bad news – since it was past ten o’clock the lady in the office said that he needed an adult to sign him in. Ummm…shit.
“No way Austin,” I pleaded. “Look at me dude, there’s no way I’m going in that school. Run back in and ask them again if you can just jump in class and they can make an exception. Tell them I’m not dressed appropriately.”
He rolled his eyes and scooted back into the school again but returned again 30 seconds later. Nope – the lady said that it was school policy that an adult had to sign him in. He assured me that I would just have to walk in and sign something quickly. There wasn’t anyone else around. Damn.
Ok, this kid’s education was at stake. This could be the day that he learns something that gets him into Harvard and becomes a scientist and eventually finds the cure for cancer, or even more importantly male pattern baldness. How the hell could I be the one who squashes those dreams? I couldn’t live with the guilt…and I was counting on him to do some magic with my bald spot.
So I parked the Escalade and hesitantly walked towards the front door. My outfit was absolutely ridiculous and the cold Colorado breeze ripped through my underwear-less sweatpants and tiny t-shirt. Austin opened the glass doors and led me into the main hallway, adorned with posters of upcoming football game and tryouts for the debate team. The school looked a lot smaller, and a lot nicer than I remembered mine was. Mercifully the hallway was empty and the door to the main office was right there. I was relieved that I’d be able to get in and out quickly without being seen. All good.
We walked into the office. There were a couple of old ladies in knit sweaters and buns in their hair typing away behind a big counter, a principal’s assistant and a secretary. The only other person in the office was a fat geeky kid who was sitting on a bench with his head tilted back, holding a towel up to his bloody nose. The ladies stopped typing and looked up when I walked in. Their suspicious eyes went from me to Austin and then back to me again. I took a step forward and tried to put on my best parental, responsible look, though it probably just looked like I was severely constipated. I realized that I still had Franny’s women’s sunglasses on, so I pushed those back onto my head. I cleared my throat and announced that I was there to sign Austin into school. One lady shot a glance at the other and then reached for a sign-in form, never taking her eyes off of me. I shifted in my high-water sweatpants to make sure my package wasn’t showing. She handed me the sign-in form on a clipboard but I didn’t want to get too close because I was burping up Jack Daniels, so I took it at arm’s length. In cautious tones she asked me who exactly I was to Austin.
“I’m like his Uncle,” I announced. “…sort of.” That wasn’t exactly a convincing answer, and I immediately felt downright creepy for saying it. It sounded more like a confession than a statement. I tried to pull the t-shirt over my stomach to look a fraction less creepy.
The old principal’s assistant was torn between calling 911 to request a SWAT team or just getting me the hell out of there as quickly as possible. Once I was gone I was sure they’d whisk Austin into a guidance counselor’s office where they could administer a battery of Rosarch tests to see if he had any permanent emotional damage.
“So what is Austin’s excuse for being late this morning?” she asked. Austin started to speak but I held my hand out to stop him. If nothing else I could give a compelling explanation so he didn’t get in trouble. I owed him that much. Let the adult handle this.
“Well you see,” I began, standing up taller and preparing to deliver a grandiose oration, “Austin’s family had to pick me up at the airport last night because I’m from out of town and we were having car problems so we all has to stay there overnight at a hotel and then this morning we were going to come back early to get him to school on time but the dog got sick so we had to go to the Vet first and then by the time we got out we had to go get a rental car…”
“I overslept.” Austin interrupted. She acknowledged his honest answer with a warm smile and then turned her icy gaze to me.
The principal’s assistant nodded in disapproval. The secretary nodded in disapproval. Austin nodded in disapproval. Even the fat geeky kid with the bloody nose nodded in disapproval. I was expecting them to haul me into the gymnasium for an assembly of the whole school and make me stand at center court, on display like a circus freak. The distinguished principal would take the microphone and announce to the whole student body that if they didn’t study hard and follow the rules then this is exactly how they would turn out, pointing to me. The kids would Ohhhh and Ahhhh in shock, but from there on not one of them would ever touch drugs in their lives, and their class would go on to set a record for the highest test scores in Colorado middle school history.
Instead the assistant adjusted her glasses on her nose and announced that I was free to go, dismissing me like I was a student. I stared at the floor in defeat and mumbled OK and turned to walk out of the office. At least I would get out of there without anyone else seeing me, keeping my last shred of dignity intact. Before I opened the door I nodded to the fat geeky kid with the bloody nose, as if to say “Hey I know what you’re going through brother. It’s tough not being one of the cool kids at school, but keep your head up and things will work out fine. I accept you just for you.” He looked back at me like “Dude, get the hell away from me. You’re really weird and you smell like my dad’s liquor cabinet.”
I opened the office door to make my graceful exit out of the school. The bell rang for the end of the period. The hallways flooded instantly with a hundred gawky middle school kids, all laughing as a visciously hungover guy with bed-head in high-water sweatpants sans underwear, slippers, woman’s sunglasses, and a t-shirt two sizes too small ran down the hall, crashed into the front doors like a bird flying into a picture window, and escaped out into the parking lot.
When I was safely in the Escalade and on the road I dialed Reilly’s number from my cell phone and told him what happened. He was still laughing hysterically when I hung up on him. Fucking goon. Next time take your own damn kids to school.
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