Searching for Swimmers–Chapter 5

For a split second, panic hit Jason as his eyes slowly adjusted their focus. Where am I? How did I get here? Typical questions that catapult through a person’s mind upon waking from a bender. It wasn’t long before he realized he’d passed out on his couch. Sadly, it also wasn’t long before the headache, dry mouth, extreme dehydration and dizziness set in. Jason shuffled into the kitchen to combat the dehydration. On his return to the living room, he noticed the time: 7:00 a.m. He sunk back into the couch and considered his drunken lost time from the previous night. Slowly he filled in the holes of his memory, but was left with some that were still a bit obscure, particularly the ones at the end of the night. He seemed to recall sending an email.

            Now he went back into panic mode. Who did I email? What did I say? It was coming, it was coming, oh yes, there it was—the post drunken romp, spiral of shame. Now his hangover was complete. He would have to face his drunk emailing demons later. First, he needed to take care of the most immediate problem—work. Jason rarely called in sick to work because of a hangover but decided that this was a special occasion. The guilt he felt could just be thrown into the vortex of shame, which would be there to haunt him for the rest of the day.

            Jason smiled with relief when he realized his cell phone was still in his pocket. He then proceeded with the hangover pat down:  phone, wallet, keys (on the coffee table). All in all, not bad, he thought.

            Later, he would take the daunting look in the mirror and confirm there were no cuts, scrapes or bruises; but if he’d gotten into a fight, he was sure that he’d have felt it by now. He paced his hallway with his cellphone and left a voice message for his boss.

            After swallowing some ibuprofen, he sat back on the couch, his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. Okay, time to rip off the Band-aide, he thought.

He wiggled the mouse to take his computer out of sleep mode and pressed the ‘power’ button on the projector. His anticipation bubbled while he waited for the projector to connect to his computer. Honestly, who could I have emailed that would be so bad? he thought. Ross, John, Jess? They’d just laugh at me. He considered his family: his mom, his brothers and sister, knowing they’d forgive him just about anything. His boss? Jason decided to stop thinking about it.

            The computer screen was still frozen on his email account. He clicked on the sent box and felt relief. Cool, I only sent one email. At least it wasn’t twenty. Then he looked at the address. Who the fuck is CryoGenerous? Realization came to him faster than a gunshot and nearly as painful. Shit! Shit! Shit!

            He opened the email and his head hung a little lower. Oh, well. Not so bad.

He’d worry about canceling his mail-in sperm kit later. Right now what he needed was a little more water, some greasy food, a bit of vitamin B, a few tokes of weed, some mindless television, and sleep, blessed sleep. 


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