Naked on the Lawn

Friday, March 29, 2013


Okay there was this one guy, and I admit this is a digression from my usual metaphysical waxing, who told me a sex related story in the course of my job. Remember when he is talking to me I am trying to decide if this guy is ever going to drink again.


The story began after the pro forma start of the hearing stuff had been conducted. The pro forma stuff means asking if his conviction dates for drunk driving were valid and whether he had every injured any person while intoxicated. After these questions were answered I had asked the gent when he realized he had a problem with alcohol.


The facts were pretty clear the gentleman previously had a raging addiction to alcohol. He was in bars most every night. He drank Jack and Coke to the point where he lost track of how many he was drinking. Life was paycheck to paycheck and most of that check was going into his bar tab. The claim was made that since he quit drinking he was able to buy a house and a small fishing boat.


The guy was not unattractive. A construction worker had that wild but buff roughneck look. Well anyhow this stud had spotted what he described to be the hottest woman he had ever seen in a bar. This Venus (backlit with the alluring glow of a neon sign flashing Budweiser) despite his proffering of free drinks and a line of well polished talk didn’t want anything to do with him. According to his testimony the spurning of his advances made her ever more the prize.


Over the next several months the gentleman chased this woman from bar to bar. Each time he ran into her he tried all the techniques he could muster. Despite flattery, free drinks, the application of the cold calculated logical approach (your attractive, I’m attractive, it could be fun), hard to get, etc there was still no action. But still he persisted.


Eventually something clicked. Maybe the lass developed an interest as to what this wild man-child had to offer under the covers. Maybe for her it simple a lack of other suitable options on a given night, but something happened. Whatever that something was one night she gave in and took him home with her. As he told the story he related he was clear in stating he did not know what had worked the trick. He told me was very, very drunk that night and the hours before the bar closed were very, very foggy.


I was curious and so I bit. I asked how if he had “gotten lucky” after so much drinking did that become the epiphany for him about his alcoholism. The gentleman looked down and responded that it wasn’t really that night but rather the next morning that he realized he was a raging out of control drunk.


At this point the Petitioner’s voice got kind of hushed and his eyes began to tear up. He told me that when he awoke it was kind of cool and the light was very, very bright. The bed was not very comfortable either and no shifting around seemed to make a difference. He decided he had to get up.


Opening his eyes that morning the storyteller realized he was naked and lying on the front lawn of the woman’s house. Strewn about him were the sheets from the bed. At this point the storyteller was absolutely almost inaudible. Apparently according to his telling of the tale what had happened was that he, having had his way with the woman, fell into a deep sleep. The sleep was so deep that when Mother Nature called as she is wont to do after many, many drinks he did not arouse himself to seek relief in the bathroom. Nope he just let the flow go, right there, yep in her bed.


Apparently he was so out of it that the pissed off (pissed on?) lady of the house was able to drag his virtually comatose body out to the lawn without his having due cognition of what was going on. After depositing his spent unclothed carcass there she then stripped the sheets and threw them out on the lawn too. Apparently she did not feel a need to cover him in his raw altogether state.

I was stunned. I really didn’t know how to respond. There were some questions I would have liked to have answered like were his clothes out there. Where were his keys? How did he get home? Why hadn’t the police found him by the time he woke up? You simply don’t ask these questions of someone who is sobbing. What you do is accept as true that this moment was a fulcrum that moved him into sobriety.