Stories that must be shared: The Time I Found Jesus

Well, I haven't blogged in years and since I just got reamed out for being lazy and distracted and not posting... it is time to get back into the swing of things. However, I find that I am in somewhat of a loss for anything to write, mostly because I didn't go out last night. So I am going to dig real deep into past journals I have written that are funny and past events that I just never got around to sharing. As promised, I will share the infamous Troy story, which still haunts me even to this day. I will waste no more time and will divulge this hilariously terrifying story.

April 2008

So, I went home with my friend (and now roommate) Kate because she wanted to hook up with some dude she met at the airport during spring break and happens to be from her hometown, Troy, NY, the place that God forgot, right outside Albany. I was pretty excited for the change of scenery and the weekend of future roommate bonding between the three of us. Also, I had finally turned 21 about 2 weeks before and this would be my first experience going to a real bar... not the classy and upscale campus establishments.

We head out to bar number one, Ryan’s Wake, and it normal drinking whatever, having a good time. Some older guy had just broken up with his girlfriend so a friend was trying to pawn us off on him, which scored us too many free shots. Unfortunately last call is made and after hours in Troy lead you to only one place... The Ruck.

We go to this shit hole that’s open all night called The Ruck. It is all wood paneled, narrow and very darkly lit. I remember these details now only because I have had the unfortunate pleasure of revisiting the Ruck, which lead to more humiliating debacles... but I digress. Well, lovely Kate wanted to do like 50 shots and so I did them with her. Jackie, being the intelligent one, courageously declined. BLACKOUT. No recollection of leaving this fabulous bar or getting back. I have flashes of memory being back at the apartment. Kate went off with her boy so we were left alone at her friend’s apartment, which was a slightly awkward situation since we were staying with people we didn't know. I got really sick and was violently vomiting, exorcism style while someone was banging on the door to make sure I was ok. I eloquently told them to fuck off and leave me the fuck alone. I have a real way with people. I was then put to bed. I VIVIDLY remember being in bed on the couch with a blanket and everything. Sleeping.

Well, I came out of blackout, standing outside on the sidewalk in a oversized brown sweatshirt and no shoes, no phone, nothing. WHAT THE FUCK! I was in bed and now I'm alone outside where it is damp and muggy. For all I know I could have been standing right outside their apartment at this time, but I was so confused and overwhelmed that I had no idea where I was and I just started walking because I couldn't think of anything else to do. Wandering around alone, in Troy fucking New York, at 5 am (I think), where people get like stabbed, I starting crying and freaking out saying that I was never going to drink again because this fucking time I had really just gone too far, alone in a strange city, without shoes or a way to contact anyone. My binge drinking and irresponsibility had really done it this time. My life could be in danger and I was terrified. I kept walking, but it didn’t matter cause I had no idea where I was going, being that I didn’t know the address or what the place even looked like and nothing looked familiar. So I get to this random street and a guy pulls over in a pick up truck and asks if I need a ride. Now obviously in my endless years in elementary school I learned never to get in the car with strangers and also, knowing that it was 5 in the morning, anyone out is probably weird. So, obviously, I open the door, get in the car to tell him that, no I would love a ride, but that I have no idea where I am going so no thank you, and then I stepped out. SO STUPID, I could have been abducted right then and there. What is wrong with me. So I am wandering and I’m getting tired and frustrated and cold because it's late and I can walk forever, but if I don’t know where exactly it is I am going, then I am shit out of luck. It was time to give up, but I did not know where to go. Suddenly, in a light of shining glory, there was a church in front of me, calling me. I figured, ‘what better place to go than a church, they’ll accept me.’ I walk over to the door to open it and sadly learned that life is not like the movies and churches are not open at all hours of the night for self-reflection. So, feeling defeated, I sat down on the stoop beneath the over-hang of the roof and curled up in a ball beneath the oversized sweatshirt and then BAM, it starts to downpour. I was so lucky I found somewhere that had covering.

I spend the next hour and a half drifting in and out of sleep, in the rain, on the stoop of a church, in the cold. Like a homeless stray dog.

I hear a door slam shut and it jerks me out of my hazy slumber. It bright and sunny out now, birds are chirping, it's warm, and everything is covered in droplets leaving that just rained aura. It was absolutely beautiful. I would have thought the night's events had been a terrible dream except for the fact that I was still shoeless outside a church. I peak around the corner and see an open mini-van being unloaded by a woman who's name I hate to say I cannot remember. Tina maybe? Well anyway I figure I have absolutely NOTHING to lose at this point anymore and bravely stride up to the woman. Just as a refresher on my image. I am in a brown over-sized hoodie (clearly a dude's), skinny jeans, barefoot and due to walking in the humid air all night my makeup has literally melted and my hair is a fro-y mess. So I ask her, as if nothing is out of the ordinary, "Excuse me, is there any possibility that I could use a phone, I'll be really fast, I just really need a phone." She goes on about how it's not her place really, she just gets to use the space on Saturdays for her club and she doesn't want to be held responsible for anything.

Me: "Look at me, do I really look like I'm a threat right now, I don't even have shoes."

Woman: sighs. "Well, I don't know what brought you here in your barefoot situation, but I believe that when you help someone, it comes back to you."

This proves my point of the exact reason I decided to come to the church haha. Well. Shocking turn of events, she hands me her cell phone and tells me I can use it for as long as I need to, but to give it back if anyone calls. I am now playing the part of homeless secretary. Ecstatic that I now had a mode of communication and the kindness that has been bestowed upon me, I immediately offer to help her carry in boxes from her car, I bring in a flat of water for her, I help wipe down the tables before the club shows up. People begin arriving, turns out it is Saturday morning scrap book club. I use this time to now make some calls, oh wait, I don't know ANYONE's number. I did know kdav's number because I used to write "for a good BJ call ###-####" in math class sophomore year. So I call to get other people's numbers, but obviously Kelly is in a drunken coma at this hour in the morning. A flash of ingenious. A couple months earlier I left my cell phone in an airport bathroom like the asshole that I am and penny counting Meesta Durks drove an hour and a half to retrieve my phone. I do know my mom's number. First call: Mom. It's 6:30 am. Meesta Durks answers the phone. My heart skips a beat. I tell him to please not ask any questions, but I really need someone's phone number from my old phone. After hassling me forever, he gives me the number. I call and call and call. Jack never picks up. Why? because it is 7 am and normal people are drunk and passed out right now, not at churches in the middle of no where. Oh, and just to mention, I am still completely shit faced, I came out of blackout at a still very sloppy and disoriented drunk and have only sobered up a little by this point. So I come back to scrapbook club hoping that I will at some point get a call back. People ask about me and are told by church woman that I am their little helper for the day. Apparently I'm 5. So she talks to me about her daughter who's studying abroad and bla bla bla like we are old friends. This would be really fucking awkward and weird if I wasn't so drunk. So finally I decide I need to call home again and get another number to call. When Mom answers she is yelling asking what is going on my Dad thinks that I am in jail. My reassuring response, "Mom, don't worry I'm not in jail, I'm in like the exact opposite of jail. I'm in a church so I'm safe, just give me this number." I call Kate who answers the 2nd time and I inform her that I am in a church and I need someone to come get me. She sighs and says she'll call me back. Without even a hint of shock or surprise. Calls are made and finally I get a hold of who I need to pick me up. I call my mom back and make up some quick bull shit story about how I ended up at church with no phone and then go return woman's cell phone thanking her endlessly for her kindness.

All is well, but she takes me aside and asks me the burning question. "I have to ask, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but what brought you here, to me, in this barefoot situation?" Still drunk and just come out with the first thing that pops into my head. I start crying and shout out, "MY BOYFRIEND ABUSES ME! I just couldn't take it anymore and I just left. He went to hit me and I didn't know what else to do. I was visiting and I'm not from around here and I had no where else to go." She grabs me and hugs me like the jaws of life. And goes on about how I can never go back to him no matter what and that her daughter went through this and it only makes you stronger. I have to kiss a lot of frogs before I meet my prince. I swear I will never go back to him and she gives me a pamphlet on domestic abuse. I'm an asshole and on a one-way street to hell, I have now gotten lost blackout drunk at a church and then lied in a house of God. See you in eternal damnation.

At this point I am so relieved that all is together(ish) that I am smiling and elated. Scrapbook club is leaving and quilting club and coming so I am helping hold the door for the old women, smiling. Living the dream. I sit down by the door and read the church bulletin while waiting for my ride and discover that I am in a Methodist church. Cool, once upon time, when I had a soul, I was baptized as a Methodist. If this isn't like Christ slapping me in the face with a sign, I don't know what is. Me and Jackie have a beautiful reunion running toward each other in front of the church and I move on to drive through this hellish city to round up Kate. Crisis averted. Well, handled.

I vowed to never, ever, ever return to that God awful place ever again. The real kicker in all of this... my boyfriend (who I will come to meet 2 months after this beautiful tale) goes to school in Troy. Fuck my life. I can't escape. One day, I may come to understand the absurd ironies that life constantly throws at me, and maybe even appreciate the humor. But as of now, life's plan is kicking my ass.

I swear to God, this is all unfabricated. Like seriously, you cannot make this shit up. The end.