Wednesday, March 31
Another Classic Bradbury Story
This story takes place in the same general time frame as the last Classic Story. Once again, I had come home from a late night of being out and, once again, John was passed out drunk on the floor of the living room. Now, this was pretty much a nightly occurrence, whether I got home at 8 PM or 3 AM, I could count on John being passed out on either the floor or hanging off of a couch in some weird, twisted manner. This particular night, as I said, John was on the floor. I wasn't quite ready to go to bed and thought I'd watch a little television. It just so happened that I had a guitar amplifier in the corner of the room because I had either recently had a practice or played a show and had been too lazy to take the amp to my bedroom. This is an important detail which you must be aware of in order for the story to continue. After watching some TV, John finally awakes from his slumber. I watched him stumble aimlessly around the room for a little while, with a confused and bewildered look on his face. Hell, it was more interesting to see what he was going to do than whatever was on television, or so I thought. I watch him walk over to the TV and then he turned to my amplifier. Now, I've never mistaken any type of electrical equipment for a toilet, no matter how drunk I was, but on this particular night, John did. He pushed my amp over about two inches and then turned around, pulled his shorts down and began to sit. I jumped from the couch that I was on (the whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion) yelling "NOOOOOOOO!". I must have gotten to him just in time because he was almost s(h)itting on my amp. I asked him what he was doing and if he needed to go to the bathroom and then pointed the way. He gave me a confused look and then tried to walk to the bathroom, collapsing about two steps into the journey. He eventually got to the bathroom (it took him about 10 minutes to travel the six feet to the bathroom, but he was crawling so I guess that accounts for some of the time) but he finally made it. He was in there for a while from what I can recall. I remember finally hearing the door open and being relieved that he was finally going to bed in his room. When I peered down the hallway a few minutes later, I saw that he had passed out on his crawl from the bathroom to his bedroom (a distance of about four feet). I just said "Fuck it" and went to bed after that. Good times.
This story takes place in the same general time frame as the last Classic Story. Once again, I had come home from a late night of being out and, once again, John was passed out drunk on the floor of the living room. Now, this was pretty much a nightly occurrence, whether I got home at 8 PM or 3 AM, I could count on John being passed out on either the floor or hanging off of a couch in some weird, twisted manner. This particular night, as I said, John was on the floor. I wasn't quite ready to go to bed and thought I'd watch a little television. It just so happened that I had a guitar amplifier in the corner of the room because I had either recently had a practice or played a show and had been too lazy to take the amp to my bedroom. This is an important detail which you must be aware of in order for the story to continue. After watching some TV, John finally awakes from his slumber. I watched him stumble aimlessly around the room for a little while, with a confused and bewildered look on his face. Hell, it was more interesting to see what he was going to do than whatever was on television, or so I thought. I watch him walk over to the TV and then he turned to my amplifier. Now, I've never mistaken any type of electrical equipment for a toilet, no matter how drunk I was, but on this particular night, John did. He pushed my amp over about two inches and then turned around, pulled his shorts down and began to sit. I jumped from the couch that I was on (the whole thing seemed to happen in slow motion) yelling "NOOOOOOOO!". I must have gotten to him just in time because he was almost s(h)itting on my amp. I asked him what he was doing and if he needed to go to the bathroom and then pointed the way. He gave me a confused look and then tried to walk to the bathroom, collapsing about two steps into the journey. He eventually got to the bathroom (it took him about 10 minutes to travel the six feet to the bathroom, but he was crawling so I guess that accounts for some of the time) but he finally made it. He was in there for a while from what I can recall. I remember finally hearing the door open and being relieved that he was finally going to bed in his room. When I peered down the hallway a few minutes later, I saw that he had passed out on his crawl from the bathroom to his bedroom (a distance of about four feet). I just said "Fuck it" and went to bed after that. Good times.
SPIN THE WHEEL
