There are a few things in life that I’ve done and have promised myself that I’ll never do again.
Children. We have three. I am fixed. I am done.
Drink Everclear. I did it once. I was in high school at a party at a friend named Jake’s house. I was already on my way to tanked when I walked into the kitchen and saw some guy I’ve never met in my life sitting at the kitchen table all by himself with a small, flask sized bottle of clear liquid next to him. When I asked what the heck he was doing all by himself in the kitchen with his tiny flask of clear liquid, he bet me $5 I couldn’t finish the last of the liquid.
$5 was enough for 10 Jack in the Box tacos back then, so it was on!
“Pffffffft, no sweat!” said I, and put the bottle to my lips. There couldn’t have been more than a mouthful of liquor left.
I saw stars and I think my life flashed briefly before my eyes while my world spun round and round.
I awoke an unknown amount of time later near some orange colored vomit that I assume was mine. Apparently puking forfeited me the $5, because the gentleman was gone and there was no prize money on the table for me. I’ve never touched it since and foresee no reason to ever do so again, tacos be damned!
Play indoor soccer. There was a time when soccer was a blast for me. That time coincided with my ability to sprint more than 20 feet without feeling like one of my lungs was trying to crawl out my asshole for having done so. Sprinting is unnatural for people over 40. Even were I in shape, recreation indoor soccer is played almost exclusively by jackasses. These are mostly men who were cut from their freshman year soccer team, but haven’t been able to convince themselves that they’ve always sucked at the sport and should let it go. There are no less than three fights every game and always a blown knee or torn achilles to be had. I’d rather not risk either.
Eat bear sausage. I ate a sausage made out of bear once. Some dick and his dad went hunting in Alaska and he was grilling sausages for national night out a few years back. He offered me what I assumed was a bratwurst, but it turned out to be grizzly bear. Maybe it was black bear or Kodiak? I don’t know, but it was bear and it went from being ok in my mind when I didn’t know what it was to just awful when I did. I’m sure if I ate bear sausage unknowingly again, it’d be fine, but I shan’t do it on purpose anymore.
Ride a Greyhound Bus anywhere. I mean not even 214 yard! When I lived in Dallas, I made many trips back and forth to St. Louis because that’s where my lovely girlfriend was at the time. I hitched a ride to St. Louis from a coworker once and needed a way to get back to Dallas. Greyhound was the cheapest, so that’s what I chose to do. I’d never been on a Greyhound, so it seemed like fun.
A 9 hour car ride took over 24 hours on the bus. From St. Louis to Memphis, the ride wasn’t wholly intolerable. There were only 5 or 6 people on the bus, but, unfortunately, one of them was some relation to Tupac or Snoop Dawg or somebody. I don’t recall who he said, but he spent many hours regaling me and anyone who he thought was listening with stories about all his arrests and the different jails he’s spent time in. It was moderately fascinating for 4 minutes, but then excruciatingly painful to bear for the next 8 hours. At least there was room to stretch my legs and pretend I was sleeping.
The bus terminal in Memphis was a zoo. It was a scene straight out of any movie you’ve seen where a bus travels through Mexico. You know the scene where it’s hot and miserable, there are kids everywhere yelling and screaming, and a few chickens running around for good measure. I just knew that every single one of those mother fuckers in that bus terminal was going to get on that bus to Dallas. I just had a feeling.
Mercifully, there was a hotel right next door with a hotel bar and I had a couple of hours to kill. I drank as fast and furious as I ever had in my life so as to feel no pain on that last leg home.
As I’d thought, every Juan, Chica and Pedro got on that bus, thankfully without Tupac Jr., who was only going to Memphis. There may have been as many as 8 free running roosters and a donkey on the bus as well. It was packed and they were all going to Dallas. Nobody got off at any of the 57 other stops that bus made before reaching Dallas. If anything, more people got on. I was eventually able to pass out and not give two shits about my surroundings, other than maybe fearing being shivved in the spleen or having my luggage stolen, but we made it without either happening.
Assemble another piece of furniture. My mom and I almost came to blows and divorced once. Can you divorce your mom? Not over a girl I was dating or poor grades or drugs or whatever it is that parents and kids get in a tizzy about, no, it was over the assembling of a computer desk.
This has been well over 20 years ago now, I think the family had just purchased an Apple IIc computer, if that’s any gauge of the time frame. We bought this enormous L shaped desk with cabinets and drawers, I believe it was a Sauders brand piece of
May my testicles shrivel up and fall off (they have figuratively, I’m aware so carry on) if there were less than 700 fucking pieces in that box. It was heavy and it was a bitch to assemble.
Pieces of wood, well, particle board were marked with letters and there were 400 different dowels and screws and interlocking pieces and rails and fasteners. Holy crap, I can’t even describe the awfulness. We fought and bitched and tightened screws and then untightened screws because we used the wrong screws and then put on shelves and then removed shelves because they were attached wrong…for 14 hours we worked on this ridiculous desk. At one point, I think mom was out of beer and we’d agreed to just get an axe, smash the shit out of what we’d created so far, and put the computer on the kitchen table that we never ate at anyway. Unfortunately, much like the screw driver or socket wrench set that would have made this job so much easier, we didn’t own an axe either.
Mom and I finished that fucker and swore to never speak of the evil things we said to each other or about the Sauder Corporation again. I’ve left all of the horrible stuff out as per our truce, but suffice to say, it sucked.
I didn’t swear off this shitty furniture assembling completely though until I was dating my wife and I assembled a simple microwave stand. It wasn’t too bad, and I was sort of proud of myself until wife pointed out that I had the shelf on backwards. The unfinished side was facing forward.
It stayed that way until I finally gave it away to a friend or maybe my brother. I promised myself, when my wife caught my blunder, that that was it for my assembling furniture. I’m an adult now, I can pay other assholes to do that type of thing.
What crap have you done that you won’t you ever do again?