A Christmas Conclusion
By God’s grace, I say as an atheist, I miraculously ended up back at my farmhouse, virtually unscathed. When I came to, the scene wasn’t pretty. Temporarily conscious once again, I was actively fingering my throat, trying to puke up as many demons as I possibly could. I was convinced purging would somehow aide me in the morning before picking up Patrick. Suddenly, a bright light flashed on.
“What the hellllll are you doing?” a stern, half asleep Kevin was towering in the doorway.
We only had one bathroom at the farm, and my roommate needed to pee. In all fairness, Kevin had every right to be exhausted with my dumbass. It was Christmas Eve, after all. Like most “normal” people, Kevin had a family to see in the morning. Obliterated, dirtbag me, though? No family, fairly new geography, I was free to self-sabotage on the eve of Jesus’ birth.
I mumbled something about needing to get “it” all out of me. Kevin replied that he didn’t care and to move or else he was going to piss on my head. Message received. I crawled out of the bathroom, pathetically, on all fours. After he exited the facilities, I crawled back to my respective embrace with the porcelain. This is really how I’m spending Christmas eve, huh?
With one eye opened, I pulled out my phone to check Patrick’s flight after what felt like the final projectile vomit of the night. His flight was delayed…. A Christmas Miracle. I set my alarm for 9:45am. Patrick’s flight would land at 10:45am. That gave me almost six hours of sleep!
Massively hungover and likely still hammered, I weaved my way to the Dulles Airport. Regardless of my dire straits, I managed to pick up Patrick on time. He could immediately tell I was unwell. I hated how he could read me so accurately. I couldn’t hide anything from him. He may have pacified me at times, but he always knew. He let me off easy that day, although visibly irked. I rarely fucked up too bad. Patrick was usually the problem one in the relationship. It was the perfect place to hide, being a functioning alcoholic myself. We would enable each other in a hopeless game of tit-for-tat for years to come. So romantic!
I suffered through an afternoon of lunch at Top Golf with Patrick’s immediate family; parents, siblings, sibling’s significant others. I’m already awful at golf, but the MadMosa’s emitting through my pores made me feel like an even bigger piece of shit. I completely understood why I wasn’t exactly a favorite addition to the O’Leary family celebrations and activities. Patrick never brought up my night out and has asked zero questions. That was one benefit of being in a relationship where you’re both a little nefarious. It wasn’t that we didn’t love each other, it was just that neither of us really knew how to love as an action. Our relationship was a lot of “don’t ask, don’t tell.” And that policy worked in both our favors, many times.
**
Later, Patrick dropped me off at my Christmas closing shift at Spanky’s, still very unwell physically. Christmas day was not busy. Especially, at the non-smoking bar. If you’re going to be a degenerate, you’re probably going to drink and smoke and be on the popular side of the bar.
My friend from the previous night, Jimmy, showed up and sauntered over to my side of the bar. He immediately cackled because of the sorry shape that I was in. He said something like “biiiiiiiiitch! You were out of control.”
Embarrassed as hell, I told him I don’t remember a lot, but I had the feeling I had behaved like an absolute menace to society. Jimmy and Patrick had worked together for a couple years at the same bar. I would describe their relationship as “frenemies.” They had spent a lot of time together, they conversed fairly jovially when they did see each other but talk to them individually and they absolutely despised each other. To be fair, Patrick could go for the jugular at times.
Jimmy was filling me in on the missing pieces from the night before. With every detail, I was more and more horrified. He informed me that on the venture back from West Virginia, the one where everyone in the front seat (Jimmy and Lars) were screaming at everyone in the back seat (Carl and me), was not only because Carl was giving the most bassakwards directions, but also because we were sloppily making out…. after all that puking I did. Disgusting. Sure, Patrick was not the best boyfriend, but quite frankly, no one deserves a girlfriend acting out this crude crusade. That’s not the kind of karma I want, whatsoever. Not only was it wildly uncomfortable, since Jimmy knew my boyfriend, but also a garish display of drunk primates performing sordid acts. The images were drowning me in shame. If there had been a cliff nearby, I would have gladly swan-dived off of it.
My face was buried in my hands. I couldn’t believe I cheated on Patrick. Well…. not totally unbelievable, I had done it before but was careful to do it on out-of-town trips with no witnesses. Surely not in front of one of my boyfriend’s only acquaintances in town. Plus, I was trying to be better these days! The double doors swung open. There was Patrick. Jimmy shot me a look like, “You are so fucked right now.” I begged him with my eyes to not say anything but before I could get out that Patrick didn’t know anything about last night, he was already standing right next to us. Damn him and his lanky ass legs and fast gait. We talked for a bit as a group, while I sweat out heavy, guilty bullets. Jimmy was not hiding the juicy secret well. Because of their frenemy status, he was reveling in the power.
More customers came in. Bastards. I had to leave my safe corner of the bar where I could monitor the conversation. Of course, because it was Christmas and humans are lonely, the people wanted to talk. It wasn’t going to be as simple as getting their drinks and running back to the corner. Feverishly, I kept sneaking glances over at Patrick, in attempt to temperature gauge the dynamic of the conversation. Patrick had a polite smile on his face, dimples on display, nodding his head. I could tell he was waiting for a break in the dialog to slink out for a cigarette. Jimmy was annoying him, for sure.
Jimmy was dominating the conversation and laughing… a lot. Too much. Inside, I was petrified. I was trying to be charming and make money with the new guests, but the next time I looked over, Patrick’s eyes met mine. I could feel the silent rage all the way across the bar. I knew Jimmy had told him something. I didn’t think Jimmy would be cruel enough to tell him that I cheated on him just a mere fifteen hours ago; it was Christmas for god’s sake!
Nonetheless, Patrick was pissed. He was still nodding but his body had stiffened. I could see the wheels turning behind his brown eyes, still locked in on me while Jimmy continued to blabber. He was taking in all the information Jimmy was comedically spewing, as if he were relenting about a sitcom. I could tell that Patrick was keeping his demeanor unbothered on purpose. Finally, he had had enough. He slapped Jimmy’s shoulder and gave him a firm handshake. He was seemingly saying “goodbye” and walked out. Fuck these guests. I escaped the conversation with no explanation. I nearly sprinted to the other side of the bar. Jimmy was beet red, already laughing. He was getting great pleasure out of my suffering.
“What did you tell him??” I whined.
Through his chuckles, Jimmy replied, “I didn’t know that he didn’t know that we went to the strip club last night!”
“Oh my god! Do you even know Patrick at all? Why would I tell him that??” I argued.
“I didn’t think it was a big deal. I’m sorry!”
Jimmy couldn’t stop laughing. I shot daggers at him, seething. I wanted to be mad, but I knew I was the only one at fault. I was the massive piece of garbage in the room.
He coyly teased me, “Don’t worry… I didn’t tell him everything.”
While semi-relieved, I knew that I still had the wrath of Patrick to deal with. He eventually cames back inside. He didn’t actually leave? He only smoked a cigarette?? There’s hope. I’m not totally fucked… yet. He calmly walked back and resumed his seat right next to Jimmy. I stared like a deer in headlights, not sure what to do.
“Sooo… the strip club?” Patrick asked with a “gotcha” smirk on his face.
“Yeah….” I sheepishly admitted.
“Sounds like you guys had a crazy night! I’m surprised I’m just now hearing about it.”
“I didn’t think you would be too keen on me going to the strip club with three dudes….” I tried to joke.
“I’m not,” Patrick affirmed, with a very straight face.
Jimmy could feel the tension. Patrick and I continued to stare at each other, not saying anything, but saying everything at the same time. Nervously, Jimmy bid us farewell. He headed to the smoking side of the bar. As I was doing damage control with Patrick, apologizing profusely, behind him, I could see Jimmy on the other side of the bar snickering. He was relishing in Patrick’s fury, and subsequently my shame. I couldn’t even be upset with him. I did this to myself.
From the entrance came Lars. He dapped up Jimmy, who then pointed towards me… finding out after I had fucked around. I could tell they were retelling the dirty details of Christmas eve to my coworkers and regulars. The crowd was eating up my pain. No one liked Patrick so they didn’t feel bad for him. They found my precarious position funny.
Patrick let the issue rest, eventually. Since he was a bartender too, he knew I had guests waiting on me. I also had zero excuses. I fucked up, I’m sorry, I’ll feel guilty over it till I die, end of story. I went on to serve my customers, while continuously pouring top shelf bourbon into Patrick’s glass in attempt to repent for my sins.