The second time I blacked out I was nineteen, back in Kentucky for winter break of my freshman year, and discovering the true meaning of homesickness. What began in my friend’s UK dorm room with whiskey and ABBA karaoke ended with me driving home completely unaware, then sobbing/vomiting so loudly that I woke my dad up.
Previous entries in the series can be found here. I am superstitious, so that "last" scares me. My last DUI, please Jesus, knock on wood, was in the late summer of 1998. I was driving a white 1968 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, Randy's "project car" at the time, home from the Dead Mule Social Club of downtown Chapel Hill, where we'd been putting back the Maker's. Randy himself was sunk in a wordless bubble…
