Advice From My Highly Intoxicated Rider
Updated: Jun 8
We roll away from a street in Bridgeport. “I got arrested right here!” The guy’s hand shoots over my shoulder from the back seat. It startles me. His fingertips point straight ahead of us. A waif of booze-breath entered my nostrils. I hold my breath.
“What happened?” I said.
“I looked down to change the radio station in my car and slammed into the back of an 18 wheeler.”
“Oh my gosh!” I said. “Wow, you’re lucky.”
“Well, I had friends in the car. One guy bit his tongue off.”
My stomach drops. “Really?” I wanted to look at him in the rearview mirror to see his expression, but knew I needed to keep my eyes on the road, no matter what he said. “Did they sow it back on?”
“Yeah. But the girl sitting shotgun was knocked out. It scared me, so I picked her up and got her out of my car. I put her on the lawn.”
I turn my directional on. “What happened to her? Did she end up coming to?”
When she woke, she was crying really hard and didn’t stop.”
“The medics told me I shouldn’t have touched her because she was injured, but I wanted to get her out of my car because she was unconscious. It freaked me out."
"How awful." I looked out at the road ahead of me, disturbed. It was clear, but for a few cars parked along the side of it. I slowed a bit to pass them while on-coming cars passed us. “Did she end up being okay?”
“Yeah, she could have sued me, badly.”
I think of a friend who was young when he got into a bad car accident while driving friends. It’s many years later, and he still can’t talk about it. I wonder what condition my rider's friend had been in, but I won’t ask. He’s reliving the accident. His vivid remarks make me feel like it happened recently.
“She didn’t sue you?”
“I sure am lucky cause she could have. But what happened to me!” he said.
“What happened? Did you get injured?”
“No. I didn’t have any injuries, and they put me in a holding cell in North Ave Jail!”
“Oh, it's high security.”
“Yes it is! You should have seen the guys in there! They’re dangerous! They like smaller guys like me!”
I wonder if it’s one of the first times he’s spoken about it. His girlfriend is dead silent. The map indicated to turn down a street not far from North Avenue.
“Some of them wanted to be with me!”
My hands tighten on the steering wheel.
“After a while, they finally put me in my own cell. I fell right to sleep.”
My map is moving slow, so I reduce my speed because I’m not sure where to go. I check the street name. “That’s good. I’m sure you never want to get a D.U.I. again.”
“No way! Some of those guys lift weights all day! I could never defend myself against them. That’s why I get rides. When it happened, they didn’t have Lyft or Uber. It wasn’t a thing. The cops said I failed a breath test, but they never tested me.”
“No. They said that I fell asleep as soon as they moved me to my cell, and that meant I was guilty. They said if you’re not guilty, of drinking and driving and get into an accident like that, you’d be wide awake.”
“Oh, cause your adrenaline would be rushing from the accident, and you’d have to come down off that to fall asleep?”
“Yeah. That’s what the cops said. So, they said I was guilty.”
"It’s good you can get rides now.”
“Yeah. It was harder to get a ride back then. It happened about 9 years ago,” he said.
He was maybe in his early thirties.
“Do you ever get an IV Drip?” he asked.
I'm not sure what he's talking about and wonder if it's a new way to take drugs. "Is it a concoction so I can eat lots of cupcakes and get my smaller clothing back on?”
They laugh. “IV Drips get rid of hangovers!” he shouts.
“You're kidding!” I said. I wonder if it does. However, I’ll never personally know because I'm a one-drink wonder. My body has been known to retaliate, if I have more than that.
“Yes, IV does make you feel better,” his girlfriend said.
“I’ve never heard of that," I said. If this is real, what a concept. It does make sense.
“The wealthy use it," he said.
“Do they?” I ask.
“Yeah. It’s awesome. I feel so much better when I go. I have a free one if you want it.”
We arrive at their destination. I have reactions to a lot of things. “No, that’s okay, but thanks,” I said.
He tells me the name of the business. “I’ve got three free appointments, if you need one. I pay monthly to belong. I hate that bill, but I feel so much better.”
They get out of my car and wave to me.
Is he an intravenous junky? Is there such a thing?
I look at their website and they offer cryotherapy, compression, IV drip, hyperbaric, and micronutrient testing." The micronutrient testing got my attention because I've had some low levels. I wonder how safe it is. Is it helping people? Can it be harmful?
I’m skeptical because the guy was intoxicated, but maybe he's onto something.
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