A Fire-Breathing Wastrel

Story Sent in by Ana:

Neil took me out to a bar for our first date. I'm usually done after a single drink, but for Neil, that wouldn't do. He imbibed enough for a small town, and the conversation, predictably, devolved.

What wasn't predictable was that, upon my return from a trip to the bathroom, I found him nodding off, right there in his seat.

I woke him gently and said, "Hey, let's call it a night."

"I just had the weirdest dream," he said, ignoring my suggestion, "I dreamt that I could breathe blue fire, and I stood up and set every guy in here on fire."

I nodded. "Want to call it a night?"

He said, "Mmmm… okay. Sure. I'm going to go to the bathroom, too."

I waited for him at the table. I waited, waited, waited, and waited. Over 20 minutes went by, and I had texted, called, and done a cursory glance-around of the place. I even peeked into the bathrooms (there were two single rooms, both unisex).

We had paid for the drinks as they arrived, so it wasn't a question of him leaving me with the bill. After another quick search, I guessed that he had left the place.

I exited, myself. Perhaps he was outside in the cold air, sobering up. Or something.

I looked among the small crowd gathered outside. No sign of him. In a final idea before throwing in the towel, I took a walk around the block, thinking that perhaps he was doing so as a way to wake up enough to drive home.

On my way down a back street, a row of cars was parked. On the hood of an Audi, I noticed a dark mass. Sure enough, upon closer, careful inspection, it was Neil, on his side, and passed out.

I shook him and he woke up. Well, barely. "Neil," I said, "Come on. Let me call you a cab. You can't fall asleep here."

"Woom-bop-be-doo," he said, or something like it. He was too heavy for me to lift, so I kept pulling at him until he slid off the hood and hit the ground.

I called up a cab company, set Neil up in a sitting position on the ground, and pulled a $20 bill out of his wallet. He was mumbling and simply would not wake up for anything. When the cab showed up, I gave the $20 to the driver and gave him the address on Neil's license. The driver was nice enough to help me lift Neil into the back seat. I asked him if he'd also be nice enough to help Neil to his door, if necessary. He replied, "I'll do what I can."

The next day, Neil called. He said, "Hey. I think I blacked out last night. Can you tell me how I ended up at my old apartment?"

Turns out, Neil had moved to a different address than the one specified on his license, but he had never updated the license address. The cabbie had placed him in a chair by the front door, and one of the people who currently lived at his old address had encountered him sitting there that morning.

I explained the previous night's event to Neil, and he apologized. I forgave him, and didn't mind at all when he never asked me out again.