Drunk and Lost in Austin, Texas

It was a kick to the ribs that brought me back into consciousness, or at least I had deduced; I hadn’t actually seen it. The bouncer was standing on the third to last step of the stairs leading out of the exit, staring at me with contempt, as I had my hands over my ribs laying on the cold, cement floor; my eyes adjusting to the scene, trying to understand what’s going on, and the other bouncer trying to pick me up so I can get to walking.

“I’m fucking serious. Don’t make me kick you again.”

I got up, but stood frozen still. I was confused, but that didn’t matter to the bad cop bouncer because he started walking toward me with bad intent. That was when the good cop bouncer pushed me off towards the street where I realized I was safe.

This must be how it feels to be born.
I felt a pang of terror deep in my heart that caused a rush of emotions resulting in tears. I didn’t want to be embarrassed on Austin’s party street, the 6th one, so I ran into the alley that was in front of my eyes, out of focus, and sat behind a dumpster. I took my phone out, and that was when everything went black again.

I came back to the conscious world in the back of a pedicab. I was staring at the stars when my eyes opened, and the breeze was hitting my face. You could hear various music styles as we passed different bars.

I looked around and saw a gorgeous blonde driving me around the streets of downtown Austin. The streets were crowded, and everyone looked to be having a good time. This energized me, making me forget for the night what had happened earlier. As we drove through alleys and backstreets, I wooed and high fived whoever had lowered social inhibitions because of the alcohol. After about fifteen blocks of driving, the pedicab came to a halt in front of an unmarked building with a line at the door.

“This is it.”

“How much do I owe you?”


I had no idea where I was, but I gave her ten dollars anyway. I was dizzy, and my ribs hurt, but it only made sense to get in line. I tried checking my phone for the time, but it was dead. I tapped the girl in front of me on the shoulder and asked her for the time.

“It’s three thirty five.”

“I thought all bars closed at two?”

No, this one is open until six.

“Wow. How are they allowed to?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Why don’t all bars do that?”

“This one is modeled after European clubs.”

When I stepped into the club, I realized just how drunk I was. My lips were numb, and I couldn’t stand still. Wobbly, I went to the bar and bought three shots and two beers. I took the shots, and chugged one beer. I grabbed the last remaining, and stumbled to the dance floor.

Dark, slow house music was playing as I pushed my way through the dance floor, packed with moving bodies. The room was pitch dark, and people’s bodies were outlined with different colors, as the strobing lights from the ceiling bounced off their edges. As I drank my beer I could feel myself falling out of consciousness slowly, and I was happy. There were people dancing around me and I felt myself being touched by different hands, but I didn’t care. I was happy, and then everything went pitch black.

The last time I came back that night was in the middle of a conversation I was having with a hobo. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized the hobo had a concerned and sorry look on his face. As I realized what was going on, I became worried about what I might have done to the hobo unintentionally. That’s when I realized my pants were wet, and it smelled of urine.

That’s the last memory I have of that night. I’m not happy that the only thing I know about how I got home that night is that it was in my car; but I am grateful I got home. Since then, I’ve harbored three regrets.

My first regret is, of course, my irresponsibility with alcohol. I could have hurt a lot of people that night, not to mention myself. My second is the immaturity in my reasons for leaving my home city for Austin. This experience succinctly paints my former opinion on why you should move to Austin. My third and biggest regret is not enjoying the city in a healthy way. Austin, Texas is a beautiful city that renders something new to do every single day, and that’s not to be taken lightly. To narrow your Austin experience to only half remembered nights on their drunken street is an injustice to both yourself and Austin.

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