After getting into a yet another argument with my girlfriend (who was as intolerable as I was, though probably much more so), I decided that, once again, that getting hammered and coming/not coming home sloshed was the best solution. I couldn't take the stupid arguments anymore.
I waited until the insanity settled down and snuck out. (If she saw me leaving, the street would know about it), and she hadn't taught me to yell back then, so those 'arguments' were somewhat one-sided.
This'll teach her a thing or two!
With an introduction like that, you wouldn't think this story can get any better!
And it won't.
My self destruction never was that. It was always a big FUCK YOU to The Man, even if the man was a woman. I generally didn't want to exist, so anyone making my existence harder, deserved whatever I would dish out.
At the time I had a system worked out for playing roulette, so I would often lose myself and my money at the casino (in case you are wondering, I'd double up on red/black, starting after 4 in a row, which worked until you hit 11 reds in a row). And that's what I did.
Never having much money, I'd often lose/drink everything I had away, and if I missed the last train, I'd start walking home. 3-5 hours later, I'd make it to a train station closer to home, in time to catch the first train. I would sometimes set myself a gambling limit, this time I did, and this time I stuck to it.
I was even sober enough to catch the last train home.
On the train, I overheard a couple talking about Russians, and couldn't help but interfere. The couple turned out not to be a couple, we started talking, and soon, I (possibly/probably intentionally) missed my stop.
The girl asked if I wanted to crash at hers. I agreed on one condition, no sexy time. We got off at the end of the line and after a 20 minute stroll, mostly uphill, we made it to her 1 bedroom unit. Her friend who had a guitar the whole time, finally got it out and played some of the best flamenco I've heard to date. He taught me a few easy to learn things, and after both of them showed me, and my minimal guitar skills, up, we went to bed.
I slept with her in her bed, her friend was on the couch.
Her friend left in the morning, we got more booze, we talked, and talked.
Next couple of days were a blur.
She knew it was a freak accident that we ended up there. I remember her saying to her friend "he's got bigger fish to fry". And I did.
She lived at the end of the line, had school lockers for storage (not hipster at the time), a filthy kitchen, filthy carpet and a similar theme throughout the rest of the house.
I started cleaning up the kitchen a little, but remembered that I knew better.
She knew she was in a league below, so she asked, so what's your story?
I knew what she meant.
"I drink", I genuinely replied