A Post By: Craig Sean
It’s New Year’s Eve and I get a text from a friend. We’ll call him Steady Freddie. He says “I quit my job.” I respond, “come to Austin.” 5 hours later he’s somehow made it from Chicago to Austin. He didn’t pack anything, forgot to eat dinner, and had just quit his job. Tonight we would put the name Steady to the test.
We head to 6th street, and get to the bar around 9:30pm. It was that awkward time when the bar is still setting up, and there’s more bartenders than patrons. We order a drink and it’s stiff. I decide to pace myself until it gets a little more crowded. while I decided to pace myself I watch Freddie slam one drink after another. The clock strikes midnight, the typical debauchery ensues, and I start my attempt to sober up so I can drive home. I fail. My other friend and I try to grab a cab and by some miracle we flag one down, but there’s no Steady with us. I spot him sitting against a street light, so I run to grab him. As I grab him he loses his lunch all over the sidewalk. I pull him up and start running to the cab. I’m not exactly sure but I think the cabbie saw some of the post vomit drool dripping off his face and sped off. At this point there wasn’t a cab in town that will take a very unsteady, drooling Freddie and his buddies home. We hike to my car, and sit in the parking lot trying to get Freddie to empty his stomach so he doesn’t lose anything in my car. For some reason I find an airplane vomit bag in my car so I say fuck it, lets go home. My other friend drives us home while Freddie heaves in the back. I didn’t turn around to see the action until we got home.
We get back to my house and I realized he had thrown the barf bag across the car and decided it would be better to just puke on himself and my car. He got it all over the seat, floor, and even filled up the change holder. I pull him out and he crawls to my yard, heaving the whole way. I get him to my porch where he sits and heaves for about 2 hours. Like I mentioned above he didn’t eat dinner and his lunch was long gone so he’s just heaving and drooling at this point.
I decide to leave him outside to drool on his knee while I go watch TV.
I can see his feet through a gap in the blinds, and there was finally movement. He stands up, takes one step forward, then one step back, then there’s a commotion. I hear him grab for the pillar on the porch, then the fence, then the side of the house, then thud. I walk outside and all I see are his feet sticking up from around the corner. I peek around the corner to see him laying on his back. He had tried to come inside but somehow lost his balance and ended up halfway in my backyard. I immediately notice the gas meter next to his head and assume he hit it on his way down and likely knocked himself out. I have a flashback from a few years before when my friend, Ben, decided to box one of the biggest guys I know and lost. I spent that night reminding him of his own name before we went to the hospital after he tried to eat an unopened bottle of advil liquid gels. I can’t imagine staying up all night trying to convince Freddie his nickname is Steady when he is about as unsteady as it gets. Then he moves and gets up, only to sit back down and heave some more. around 5am I drag him inside, and leave him to sleep on the hardwood floor with a pillow covered with a trash bag.
I wake up feeling a little sick but not bad. I go check on Steady and he’s looking a little under the weather. My roommate asked later that day “who was the guy in extra room that looked blue and like he was about to die?” I figure food will make him feel better so we head out to lunch. I’m walking to my car when I hear him say something along the lines of “where did I throw up last night.” I then find out he actually said “where should I throw up?” Before I can answer he’s already figured it out and is throwing up in my lawn. I dont want to be real graphic but the throw up looked strangely like lemon lime gatorade.
We go to lunch, all he can manage to eat is a mint. While I’m eating, I notice splotches all over his pants and remember he threw up all over himself…. I immediately lose my appetite. At this point we don’t have time to get him a new pair of pants because he needs to be at the airport to catch his flight back to chicago. He says “fuck it.” We went to the airport and he flew home covered in vomit.
Let’s take a look at the timeline of Steady Freddie events:
noon: quit his job
3:30pm: buys a plane ticket to Austin
5:30pm: leaves for Austin without packing or eating dinner
8:00pm: arrives in Austin
9:30pm: begins drinking
1:30am: stops drinking
2:00am: loses his lunch on the sidewalk outside the bar
2:30am: coats my back seat in bile
3:00-5:00pm: heaving and drooling on the porch
noon: eats a mint
1:30pm: gets to the airport covered in vomit
2:00-5:00pm: sitting next to an innocent person or 2 in vomit-coated pants
8:00pm: eats for the first time since lunch the previous year.
Editor’s Note: We’re glad Craig Sean is back.