Timothy Machasio

Prof. Erin Dietel-McLaughlin

Multimedia Writing & Rhetoric
Wednesday 21st January 2015
I am Never Drinking Again
Nice to meet you Tim! There is a story behind that conspicuous
scar on your right cheek, and Im going to hear it.
That is about the gist of every in-person introduction I have had
to make for the past seven years. Ergo, my introductions over that
period have instilled in me something akin to a Pavlovian reaction a
recollection of the fateful events of my junior highmiddle school
graduation party every time I say my own name.
A fifteen-year-old should never get drunk. But I did. And almost
paid the ultimate price for it.
***
No, not again! I did not just wake up late for night prep! Mr. Eliot
is probably waiting for me patiently at the class door, his trademark
green whip tucked away in his hefty jacket grinning in anticipation as
he awaits my remorseful arrival. I have already been tardy for evening
prep five times this week he wont let me sneak quietly into class if I
were late because I was saving someones life, let alone because I was
taking a nap.
Oh, Im not in school, am at home. It is 1:00 AM the day after
clearing from junior high school, and Ive been blacked out for the
past eighteen hours or so. I heave a sigh of relief, and wipe away the

chilly stream of sweat that is forming on my forehead. Before I think to

sit down, I notice a persistent, periodical clink on my window. On
moving over to close it, I see Jeremy and Devin, my classmates, on the
boulevard below. Shoot! I exclaim upon realizing I am late for
something way more important the student-organized graduation
party.
Leaving home at 1:00 AM without my parents permission might
lead to serious consequences. Especially ifIf they find out. NBut no,
they wonwill not. In my head, I hear two voices in my head: a loud,
distinct one screaming, No, PleaseTim. Please dont! dont do it and
a soft, muffled one whispering, Do it.
He has been asleep since this morningfor the entire day!.
Shouldnt we wake him up for dinner?Ill go upstairs and wake him up
for dinner.
Let the poor kid be. We will wake him up in the morning, after
he has sleptsleeps off the fatigue of four years in middle school.
The dialogue between my parents affirms my decision. I heed to
the soft, muffled voice. As I climb out through the window and descend
to the dingy, mushy ground below, I think to myself, hasnt mum
always told me,Mum has always told me to heed to the softer voice in
times of moral quandary, hasnt she? , to give in to the softer of the
voices? I smile sheepishly.
***

I see her by the bar counter the alluring, voluptuous work of art
I have been dying to talk to for four years, but have always been too
much of a namby-pamby chicken to. I take my first glass of beer. Then
a second. Then a third. Suddenly, I feel spontaneous. I am the most
confident stud I have never been. The beer goggles set in, and I think
to myself, Yes, I can do it. I walk up to her, and gently tap her supple
shoulder. Time freezes, and in an instant the vibrant, discordant
chitchat in the room drowns in oblivion.
Hey Zuhurasexy! I say, and the nervousness dawns upon me
anew.
Timmy! she says, flashing her perfect set of white teeth to
reveal a candid smile I saw you break you dancing a few minutes ago.
DamnMan, youre a good dancergood!
The conversation carries on deep into the night.
Oh my God, is she playing with her hair? She is also punctuating
the conversation with the proverbial telltale flirtatious laughter! This is
going great we are so hitting it off!
Dance with me she pleads when a slow-paced song plays,
signaling the last chance dance.
Okay Tim. Dont mess this up.Be cool, I say to myself - futilely
trying to hide the wide grin on my face. I take her hand in mine, and
walk her to the dance floor.
***

A mammoth violently slaps my hand away from Zuhuras waist,

and pushes my gyrating self e to the side. Were leaving, babey he
tells her in a final, authoritative voice. And you, stay away from my
girlfriend.
No, I am not allowing this bully to take her away from me. I grab
her hand.
Shes shes not going anywhere I stammerassert and that
is not how you treat a lady.
Excuse me? he roars. He looks directly into my eyes, and in
hisglares into my eyes, revealing the raging fire that accentuates fury
in furyhis. He bites his lower lip with a diabolic lust for violence and
charges towards me. I clench my right hand into a fist.
One blow to his face, and he sprawls onto the floor. By now the
entire room has noticed the drunken brawl, and is vigorously cheering
me on.
Get him! shouts one.
Teach that douche a lesson! shouts another.
As I drunkenly kneel to rain more blows on him, he gropes my
neck and tumbles me over. Then he reaches for his pocket and draws
out a dagger. Aghast at the imminent tragedy, I profusely beg for
mercy.
But he does not relent. He interminably advances his dagger
closer and closer to my chest. I have to do something. In a reflexive

jerk, I deflect the knife. But merely so, for it swooshes pastgrazes my
right cheek, and grazes it sending an explosion of pain through my
face that numbs it. I grimace in agony, and in a vicious fit deliver an
uppercut to the brutes chin that sends him to sleep.
Everyone gazes on in disbelief.
I get up and dust my clothes. Zuhura hugs me and suggests that
we head to the hospital to get my wound, now bleeding like a faucet,
sewn up.
As we step outteeter into the chilly, murky 5:00 AM ambience, it
hits me that having to report tonights incidence to the police later on
is the least of my worries. My parents will be disappointed that I felt
the need tokill me when they realize I leftave home in the dead of the
night without their knowledge. Worse still, I got into a drunken and
potentially fatal tussle all because of a girl.
The devil sometimes does speak in a soft voice, I think to
myself - and make a sweeping declaration never to drink again.
Then again, I just fought a person twice my size brandishing a
dagger and won.
Im a badass.
A badass who will never tell the true story of how he got a scar
on his right cheek because if he does, it will be an enduring
manifestation, to everyone he meets, of his irresponsibility and juvenile
stupidity.