Last night Lori and I drove to Evansville, IN, 3 hours east of here, for her annual Christmas party. We would have been right on time, except we got a little lost...no doubt due to faulty intelligence. The directions were crappy, I swear.
But we made it,. We ate the free food, drank the free beer, won the table's centerpiece, and bugged out at a respectable hour. We decided to share $40 of her Christmas bonus with the riverboat casino in Evansville, and did what we always do...dinked around on the penny slots until 3 a.m.
At 3 we looked at our watches, cashed in our $20 ticket, cursed ourselves for staying out so late, and headed for the car.
This would be an opportunity to mention that the Casino Aztar in Evansville is HUGE. And we were tired. So we wandered a little looking for the car.
"I thought we parked on level 2."
"So did I. Maybe not."
We checked level 2. Nada. Level 1? Nope. Level 3? uh-uh.
So we put our heads together, finally remembered where we parked.. in the very, very back corner of level two. We got off the elevator and made the trek across the cold parking lot in. And it was cold - really cold - like 18 degrees.
As we approached the car, I saw something in the passenger seat. I was a little bit ahead of Lori and I looked in the driver's side window...there was a guy in the passenger seat of our car.
He was a big guy; his eyes were closed and he was slumped forward with his hands in the om position, in a long sleeve t-shirt with no coat. I said, "There's a man in our car."
Lori said, "What??"
"There's a man in our car. Look."
Lori bent down, looked in the window, and smacked it really hard with the palm of her hand. It made a lot of noise, but he didn't move. We looked at each other over the top of the car, and I sent Lori back in to the casino to find a security guard. I stayed by the car to keep an eye on it. He didn't look like he was going anywhere, but I was thinking that if he did, I'd want to know.
So I stood a few yards behind the car, looking at him through the back window, and speculated about why he was in our car. Was he drunk and got into the wrong car? Did he lose the rent playing poker and kill himself? Did someone else kill him and leave him there? Did he pass out and freeze to death?
The question uppermost in my mind however...was there going to be anything gross in our car?
I was trying to remember how to do CPR if I needed to. 5 and 1? 10 and 2? Maybe he'd be so dead I wouldn't have to remember. Please, please...don't have splattered your brains all over our car. Please. I sort of envisioned being stuck in Evansville, our car a crime scene, calling our family for a ride home.
"Uh, Rob? We're in Evansville and there's a dead guy in our car. The police need to keep it for a while...can you come get us? "
Rob's a nice guy, but really...I'll bet he's getting tired of rescuing us from our weird disasters.
By this time my ears were freezing and I was wondering where Lori was. I started edging back towards the door, keeping an eye on the car, until finally she came out with a security guy. Apparently the security guard she had approached had to interrogate her for a few minutes before doing anything. Was she sure it was her car? Was the guy someone she knew?
No and no. He finally called another security guy...the parking lot security guy. Lori and the security guy walked towards me while she explained to him that we'd come out of the casino to find a large, unresponsive man in the passenger seat of our car. Thy approached the car and the security guy tapped on the window and said, "Hey, buddy?" Nothing. The guy never moved.He opened the door, put a hand on the guy's shoulder and shook him gently. Nothing.
The cop started shaking him harder and harder, saying, "Buddy? Hey buddy? Can you hear me?" No response.
Oh shit, I thought. Dead. Damn it. This is going to be really inconvenient. "Does he look dead?", I asked.
"No, he's drooling, and his eyelids are fluttering.", said the cop.
Lori said, "Don't make him puke, okay? And please tell my he didn't piss in my car."
The cop continued shaking him and yelling in his ear. Finally the guy's eyes slid opened. The cop said, "What are you doing?" And the guy said, "Waiting for you."
He was clearly shitfaced drunk, but he hopped out of the car with surprising agility considering it's so low and he's so big. And drunk. He was mumbling incoherently, and the cop was holding his arm, asking him questions.. Where's your car? Do you have a car? I thought "Holy fuck. You're not going to let him drive, are you?" The cop asked if we wanted to have him arrested and we said no, we just wanted to go home. He led him away by the elbow, and we got in the car which reeked of beer, but thankfully, not of urine or vomit.
Lori said, "On the bright side, I'm not sleepy anymore."
Later, when we were laughing about what a good story this would be, she said, "You know, this stuff only happens to us. We're magnets for this kind of weird stuff. And this stuff never happened before I met you. It must be you that attracts it. And who's going to believe it? Bikers, dwarfs, strange drunk guys in our car...people will think we make this stuff up."
But no. You people know us. You know it's true, don't you. It's just another day in Nowhere with Kwach and Ev.
Sunday, December 07, 2008
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7 comments:
How did he get into your car? You do believe in LOCKS on the car at least don't you? YOu are lucky you were not driving one of those trucks of yours and woke up this morning with him knocking at your door asking for a lift back.
a) Yes, I usually lock the car when we're away from home, but I must have forgotten.
b) If he'd been passed out drunk in the back of a truck for a three hour drive in 16 degree weather he'd have died of hypothermia and wouldn't need a lift. Actually, if he'd sat in my car without a coat in 16 degree weather much longer he'd probably have died in IT.
Well if you should happen to find a dead guy in your car, it is best just to drag him out and leave. The police will inbound your car and rip it apart and you have to wait for weeks and when you get it back it is not worth having and then you have to explain it to your insurance companny....Saw it on CSI.
Who knew life was so exciting in Nowhere IL...
I knew life was this exciting in Nowhere Il, Jazz because I've been reading this kick-ass blog for quite a while and have enjoyed many of the zany adventures of the Nowhere Irregulars
Hey, honey, we're zany! Like Lucy and Ethel! (Unfortunately, I think I'm probably Ethel.)
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