EPTI took out my phone and started looking up the bus schedule for later that night. An errant soccer ball hit flew hard into my face. I realized someone had shouted “Heads!” only after I was hit. I clenched my teeth in reflex. Rattled and stunned, I moved my tongue around my teeth to make sure they were okay. Next I picked up my glasses to find out they had been mangled. My heart sank in disappointment. I tried to determine whether it could be fixed easily. It was my good pair too – I had another pair of sports glasses that I didn’t mind getting beat up, but had not yet put on. By this point the soccer players came over to see if I was okay. Then came the really bad news – someone handed me my phone to reveal that the screen was badly cracked. Now my day was ruined.
I don’t know if I should have asked the kicker for compensation. I contemplated and dismissed the danger of standing there. I should not have been inattentive in the gym like that. That was my mistake. Also, at that point I didn’t know the extent of cost damage to my phone. I let the guy off. I too had broken other people’s glasses during sports before. It sucked, but it happened. I guess that’s why people should be wearing contacts.
My phone was pretty new, less than 2 months old. I found out the next day how steep the cost of replacing the screen would be. It was not worth repairing, and decided to just keep using it as is. I figured I wouldn’t have to worry about babying the device too much, something which I seemed to do poorly.
I still stayed for volleyball. The experience was not very enjoyable, with the accident weighing heavily in my mind. I finished playing and changed to go out later that night. I ate a fast food Greek dinner, then went to catch my bus. At the bus stop I coincidentally ran into two friends heading down for the same event – drinking then maybe karaoke.
We went to a bar/lounge venue and joined the larger group already there. There were strong Korean connections in the group, so the soju flowed freely alongside the beer. I had a good share, and the night was enjoyable. I sat at one end of the table and chatted with those nearby. Some got up to mingle with people sitting farther away. I didn’t do that, and now I understand why: without enough talking points to carry a conversation, you’d be standing awkwardly in an uncomfortable position. When we were ready to go, the bill was split evenly and came to $21. I was expecting worse and was slightly relieved, having estimated the amount to be higher. Considering how much I had to drink, it was a good deal. Throughout that time, I was carefully measuring how much I was drinking in relation to others – I wanted at least my proportionate share.
I have always been legendarily cheap. Cheap, greedy, miserly, penny-pinching, cost-conscious, resourceful, economical – choose whatever descriptor you want. It’s embedded in my genes. As a kid, when choosing what toy I wanted to buy, I would agonize over the price. I did not want it if it was too expensive. I carefully scrutinized potential purchases for value and amount of fun returned. When I went to Chuck E Cheese and other play-places, I could never use up all my tokens. Knowing that my resources were limited affected me deeply. Hoarding my currency (tokens) was safer than playing games. I used the coins sparingly, at a controlled pace, assessing the return after each game. Spending money still hurts me deep down inside. That’s one of the reasons why I want to start earning money so badly – I want to know that I can afford my outlays.
Back to the story. We left the lounge and headed to a karaoke place. Some people were rather inebriated. I doubt anyone had significantly more to drink than me. I could definitely feel it but it wasn’t too bad. In fact, I very rarely drink, have never gotten that drunk, and certainly not drunk enough to forget anything. For me, this outing was a rare occasion and I wanted to test my limits. I had more to drink in the karaoke place. We belted out songs for a while, then it was time to call it a night. When people started leaving, I noticed there were a few drinks left untouched. Notably, a whole bottle of soju sat under the TV. No one wanted it. Knowing we had paid for it, I picked it up and drank it all in one go. It proved to be my undoing.
I didn’t feel the effects until we had gone outside. I was one of the last to leave. A girl called a friend to pick her up. It was around 2:30 am at this point. The only other guy left invited me to stay and offered to introduce me to some girls. I followed him back down to the karaoke place for a moment, then changed my mind and decided to go home. What could have happened had I stayed, I have no idea.
The last bottle had hit me hard when I got back outside. There was a bus that would take me up a block to transfer to my main bus (they both ran 24h). I decided to try to walk it off – it didn’t help. It was a pretty far walk and took me a while. I got to the bus stop and plopped down on the seat. The bus took a long time to come. I felt cold. One pulled up – something seemed off though. I placed one foot on the bus, asked the driver where it was headed, and was told to read the sign. I stepped off, read the number on the side of the bus, and went back to my seat. I could tell he was annoyed with dealing with a drunkard.
Finally the right one came. I struggled to find my wallet, but after thoroughly patting myself down, I found it, to my great relief, and dropped in my token. I felt sick when the bus started to move. I managed to take out a napkin from my pocket and threw up a little into the paper. Some vomit leaked out onto the floor. I reached down to mop up what I could. I lost control and dropped the napkin. I tried to pick it back up but couldn’t and gave up. Hopefully there wasn’t too much of a mess. I fell asleep for most of the bus ride.
Almost immediately before my stop I knew to wake up and ring the stop. As I headed off the bus, I tried to wave a thanks to the driver, but I couldn’t really speak. It took all my effort just to get off safely, and I couldn’t manage to turn around to thank him. Once off, my awakening had re-aggravated my sickness. I braced myself against a fence and threw up a little bit more. The bus was stopped behind me. I didn’t know whether it was because of a red light or if the driver was looking out for me. He did call out and ask if I was alright. I took some deep breaths, nodded in appreciation for his concern, and waved him on. He closed the door and drove off.
I walked the rest of the way to my house, stumbling clumsily down the sidewalk. The road was empty in the late night. I got to my house, opened the storm door, and sat down on a stool to gather myself. I took out my phone to see it was about 4:00 am. My mom actually called just then. She was a late sleeper. She peeked out the window to see me sitting there, then left me alone to recuperate. Eventually I managed to make my way in, shower, and go to bed.
The next day I experienced my first hangover. I wanted to drink water before sleeping, but the effort to pour myself a glass was too difficult in my compromised state. I was satisfied with the experience though. I wanted to know what it felt like and of my tolerance and reaction. I didn’t go too far either.
The point of the story is that I am a cheap ass. The experience was not caused by peer pressure or excess celebration or depression, but instead by wanting to get every last drop for my dollar. I was literally poisoned by my own greed. I hate getting shafted, missing out on my fair share, or falling behind. I picked up the bottle and finished it quickly to catch up with the exiting crowd, no one the wiser. In this instance, it backfired. I learned a lesson that night, which will change my outlook on things just a little bit.
