In your garage, dude. Remember last night outside the parking lot at The Buckeye? You were completely hammered. I said, “Dude, I’m taking your car and driving you home. I’m going to park your car in your garage. Please remember this. Please do not call me at work the next day like you always do asking where’s your car.” You said, “Dude, I’m not a moron. If I wake up and have questions about my car, I will first look in my garage to see if it’s there. If it’s not there, I will look for it on the driveway, then walk around the neighborhood in a five block radius from my house looking for my car. If I still can’t find it, I’ll call all the bars I frequent to see if I left it in their parking lot.”
Then I said, “That sounds really nice, almost eloquent in its severity and premeditation, but I’ve been your best friend since high school and every morning for the past two decades we go through this.” So then you said, “Dude, don’t drag up the past or talk about friendship. This is about pragmatism. If and when I wake up tomorrow morning, if I am suddenly curious about the location of my car, I will undergo the aforementioned. If I still can’t find my car, I will place an ad in the local paper that says: IF YOU SEE A 2002 GREEN HONDA CIVIC CALL ERIC AT 621-8750, and wait by the phone for 5 business days until further notice.” So I said, “Dude, you are drunk. You have no idea what you are talking about. You will not need to wait by the phone because you have a cell phone. You can carry that cell phone anywhere you go. There is no such thing as waiting anymore, you just exist and phones ring.” At which point, you replied, “I’m going to hurl.”
And then you did. Then you passed out. I dragged your body behind the bar and hid you in the bushes. I drove my car home, had some saltines, and briskly walked back to the bar. I retrieved your body, brushed off the insects, and dragged you to the backseat of your car. I drove to the gas station, bought a roll of paper towels and Gatorade (that’s all they had) and washed the drying vomit off most of your face and padded down your clothes. I then drove you to your house, carried you up the stairs and delivered you to your bed. I tucked you in, kissed you on the forehead, and said goodnight. Yes, okay. You’re welcome. Look, I got to get back to work. I’ll see you at The Buckeye tonight, drinks on me.