11.22.10 - 9:05 pm

the evening had waned into a critical moment of decision. standing now out front some shitty looking bar (was it cantina? peacock?) we stood at the tail end of a long line of shivering miserable people all hoping to end their saturday night on a high note. six dollar cover. six dollars plus how ever much the debit card minimum was for alcohol with just under an hour to drink them before last call. the alternative was to head back to clods, on foot, some fifteen blocks away to polish off our night. i think when the australian broker abandoned us and snuck inside, we decided to get out of there.

lets run.
really?
yeah.

the words that changed a mans life.

i took off in my ridiculous yellow columbia jacket, darting down the well treaded sidewalks of my early twenties. derrick sprinted somewhere behind me with tim trailing the rear. we heard hoots and hollers from the patrons on the other side of the street, a drunken mob leaving that packed bar satisfied, intoxicated and full of encouragement. their cheers suddenly roared with approval at the sound of a scuffle and grunt behind me. when i turned around, derrick was crawling off the ground, tim immediately at his hunched side. he looked winded, like a fall had suckered him right in the gut. i chuckled slightly as i strolled back to him, hands on his knees. the closer i stepped the more blood i could see staining his hands, dripping onto the cement. okay, so he bit his lip during the fall. then he lifted his broken face and spoke.

i knocked my fucking tooth out.

his upper lip was severely swollen. blood coming out of his nose or somewhere under it. his chin continued the narrow stripe of crimson. he looked incredulous. both tim and i asked if he was serious.

he pulled up his mangled lip to reveal that, indeed, one of his front teeth was now a black space. maybe he slipped a raisin in there on the recoil. people dont just fall and knock their goddamn incisors out. this was something out a comedy film. zach galifianakis was around somewhere. had to be. i laughed. it was uncontrollable. both my immense empathy and sadness completely dismissed by the ridiculous caricature of my bleeding and wounded friend in front of me. i had to look away. the gore and the humor were of no help to my soulless behavior.

should we look for the tooth? do you know where it went?
whats the fucking point? he would respond, despondent.
are you sure?

so we left it. somewhere on the sidewalk. embedded in the cement planter he had kissed in free fall. ivory sparkling in solitude against the black asphalt road. who knows where it would have ended up. it felt like a bad idea, but i certainly didnt want to spend the rest of the night on my hands and knees looking for a piece of his face while he bled out. so we moved on. the remaining fifteen blocks back to my car.

i ran ahead to the mcdonalds to get napkins. all the doors were locked. two people sat at a table inside, eating, chatting on a cell phone. employees just off their shift. i knocked on the glass and naturally they responded with, fuck off were closed. so i pantomimed using a napkin to wipe the corner of my mouth like a member of the royal family. after some exchange of gestures, a back door opened and a wad of napkins was shoved in my hands before i ran off again.

derrick was in shock. not so much physically, but emotionally. he couldnt believe what had just happened. he had been so thoroughly enjoying himself this weekend and now, suddenly was enduring the worst injury hes ever experienced, so he says. he didnt have health insurance. he didnt have dental coverage. implants and x rays and stitches and doctors and dentists were going to cost a lot of money. a lot of money. with his face disfigured he certainly couldnt do his customer service job. and it would be difficult for the girl he was seeing to hang out with him with his face looking post meat grinder.

it was a long quiet walk.

we finally got back to tims apartment. i was on the verge of throwing up from intoxication and laid myself down on the makeshift bed tim had made up for me the night before. derrick was supposed to crash on the couch next to me. i would wake up some time the next morning exposed without my thin insulating sheet. i reached down and tugged it a bit only to find it tugged back. sitting up in the dim light, derrick was mysteriously laying parallel to me, his head at my feet. only now wrapped in my blanket looking straight at the asshole he imagined was trying to steal his blanket. i grabbed my yellow columbia jacket, and let the wounded man have his way.