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I was a wild-ass in my late teens/early 20's.  At least by my standards.  I did some fairly crazy shit - road tripped it to San Diego/L.A. summer after my senior year with a buddy whose parents had told him he couldn't go and we went in his car; went to Nevada to work a mining claim with a stranger I'd met at my hardware store job; the night a buddy turned 21 in Austin decided late at night to go to Mexico - left at probably midnight, pulled over to sleep in Robstown and carried on the next day and spent the weekend in Brownsville/Matamoros.

There are many times I did shit where I should have died or been arrested.

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On 7/20/2023 at 1:23 PM, Dennis Taylor said:

I was an outside sales rep and we had to wear a tie M- Th and then on casual Friday a polo was allowed. It was summer in Houston so getting in and out of the car all day, walking to warehouses and buildings all day long was fucking miserable. Some rep at some other location wore something that pissed off one of the higher-ups and got casual Friday revoked so we were expected to wear a tie M-F. We were all pissed as hell since it was ridiculous to wear a tie in the first place let alone every day, so I devised a little protest...My dad had some of the oldest, ugliest ties on the face of the earth so I picked out the worst of the bunch- a clip-on that went just past my chest and it was nearly as wide as it was long, horribad shades of yellow and brown. Made of the worst polyester ever manufactured. Wore it with a red short sleeve polo and proudly walked into a Friday morning meeting before all the reps went out into their territories. Everyone was howling with laughter at the hideous get-up, and the regional sales manager (who was cool as hell, he wasn't a fan of the tie rule either but had to abide) said through suppressed laughter that he liked my tie...I unclipped it and said "Here- try it on for yourself" and he just absolutely lost it, died laughing. 

I don't remember if I got another gig shortly thereafter or if they relaxed the rule but that was the highlight of working at that hellhole. 

You rang?

 

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My first week in Austin I was driving north on Rio Grande and stopped at the red light at 24th Street, next to Cain and Abel's 

42 minutes ago, MissingInAction said:

There's a solid 20 years of my life where these moments happened at least once a week.

The one that stands out though was this one time in Georgia.

I was going through AIT at Fort Gordon, and it had been a rough day of training. The corner PX with 99 cent budweisers wasn't going to cut it.

So I call a cab and ask for the nearest bar off base. The cabbie asking me if I was sure about my decision should have been my first clue of things to come. After driving down a winding dark road I see a light coming out of the woods from a shack that reminds me of every horror movie I'd ever seen. That can't be it.... oh yes... it is. The bar is called Beetle-juice. Spelled that way for copy right reasons I'm sure.

Nothing but harleys out front. I was still in my BDUs so the cabbie thought I'd be safe since bikers love soldiers.

He was right. Didn't pay for a drink the whole night. Then I met Lester, and Lester asked me if I wanted to get some pussy, his treat. I hadn't been laid since before basic 8 months ago so I was like hell yea Lester. Let's fuck some hoes.

We grab a cab to this motel that doesn't look half bad. Lester says, first the party favors then the party.

First stop: drugs

We knock on a door where we get hurried in. I see drugs and weapons out all over the place. I'm all fuck this and reach for the door. Lester assures me it's cool, makes a deal then hands me some crack rocks which he tells me to put under my tongue. So I do. I'm all in now.

Next stop: whores.

Knock on another door where a lovely Crack whore answers with a rotted smile. I'm thinking we didn't get enough crack for this stage of the adventure.

We proceed to smoke out and I'm so fucking trashed I came in this Crack whores mouth before I knew she was blowing me. Where the fuck is Lester. Oh he's in the bathroom with Jolene tieing off. 

I looked at my watch: 4am... formation in 30. Fuuuuuuu!

I throw my clothes on and fucking sprint out the door. Crack whore yelling about some shit. 

Ran to the motel office to call a cab but nothing was available for at least an hour.  There's a man and his kid sitting there so I desperately plead with him for a ride. He says no problem and we take off. He understands my situation so he's hauling ass to base while I stare at my watch.

We get there just in time for me to sprint up into formation for roll call.

Tl/dr: Got drunk with bikers, smoked Crack, got a bj from a Crack whore, nearly missed formation which would have made me AWOL

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Summer of 94.  I'm recently married and have a 10 month old..  Dad had a stroke the previous February.  He's feeling his mortality a bit so decides he wants to do a summer "road trip" with his family.  Dad rents a 34 foot motor-home and invites my family along and offers to pay, if I'll do the driving.  I'm game for this so we pile in the RV and set out from Beeville TX.

We drive out west to the Grand Canyon, head north through Utah, farther north to Yellowstone and the Tetons.  Farther north thru Glacier in Montana and then into Canada on the Ice Fields Parkway all the way to Jasper...and then back south all the way to TX.  NOW, you might say "what a fun and scenic trip!"...and you would be right on the "scenic" part.  The "fun" part, not so much.

It was fucking miserable.  Eight people are not meant to be in that close of a proximity for 8000 miles and three weeks.

There were many misadventures on the Griswoldesque road trip.  Among these are the time I fell in McDonald Creek and almost drowned.  The time a fucking Bighorn Sheep appeared out of nowhere on a scenic overlook and tried to run me down, and when my ex dropped a $1300 video camera off the side of a footbridge in Malign Canyon.  However, the real kick in the balls came when, somewhere in Canada, I think on the way to some fucking waterfall (Takawkaw Falls maybe) that my mom desperately wanted to see, I had a "little incident" with the RV.  By little, of course, I mean fucking monumental.  You see, as a 20 year old young man with extensive driving experience in Texas, I paid little attention to road warning signs such as "No vehicles over 24 ft allowed on mountain pass roads."  This had worked well for me on the other roads, especially in the US.  In Canada, not so much.  About a half a mile before the top of this pass, I tried to turn the 34 foot RV left on an especially tight switchback, and found that the vehicle was too long.

So now what?  Well, as you can imagine, there are not any places where I could simply turn around.  At least not without risking a 1000 foot fall off the mountain.  SO, I had to REVERSE that fucking RV down the mountain, thru switchbacks, about 12 miles, and over three hours before I found a turnout that I could use.  Talk about "ass puckering adventure...  Needless to say, oncoming, and descending, traffic was not happy with the idiot from Texas.  I received many single finger waves and much verbal "encouragement" on my way down.  But i did make it.  Probably the worst three hours I ever spent on the road...  Ex old lady was so scared and carsick, she actually got out and walked...

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1 hour ago, MissingInAction said:

There's a solid 20 years of my life where these moments happened at least once a week.

The one that stands out though was this one time in Georgia.

I was going through AIT at Fort Gordon, and it had been a rough day of training. The corner PX with 99 cent budweisers wasn't going to cut it.

So I call a cab and ask for the nearest bar off base. The cabbie asking me if I was sure about my decision should have been my first clue of things to come. After driving down a winding dark road I see a light coming out of the woods from a shack that reminds me of every horror movie I'd ever seen. That can't be it.... oh yes... it is. The bar is called Beetle-juice. Spelled that way for copy right reasons I'm sure.

Nothing but harleys out front. I was still in my BDUs so the cabbie thought I'd be safe since bikers love soldiers.

He was right. Didn't pay for a drink the whole night. Then I met Lester, and Lester asked me if I wanted to get some pussy, his treat. I hadn't been laid since before basic 8 months ago so I was like hell yea Lester. Let's fuck some hoes.

We grab a cab to this motel that doesn't look half bad. Lester says, first the party favors then the party.

First stop: drugs

We knock on a door where we get hurried in. I see drugs and weapons out all over the place. I'm all fuck this and reach for the door. Lester assures me it's cool, makes a deal then hands me some crack rocks which he tells me to put under my tongue. So I do. I'm all in now.

Next stop: whores.

Knock on another door where a lovely Crack whore answers with a rotted smile. I'm thinking we didn't get enough crack for this stage of the adventure.

We proceed to smoke out and I'm so fucking trashed I came in this Crack whores mouth before I knew she was blowing me. Where the fuck is Lester. Oh he's in the bathroom with Jolene tieing off. 

I looked at my watch: 4am... formation in 30. Fuuuuuuu!

I throw my clothes on and fucking sprint out the door. Crack whore yelling about some shit. 

Ran to the motel office to call a cab but nothing was available for at least an hour.  There's a man and his kid sitting there so I desperately plead with him for a ride. He says no problem and we take off. He understands my situation so he's hauling ass to base while I stare at my watch.

We get there just in time for me to sprint up into formation for roll call.

Tl/dr: Got drunk with bikers, smoked Crack, got a bj from a Crack whore, nearly missed formation which would have made me AWOL

Fucking wow!

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