GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #998: ROLL THE DICE

I did it again. Deleted a full GF, no editing needed. For a different reason. Next week is going to be very bad for me. Something terrible is going to happen, and I know what it is. And there's nothing I can do about it. Yes, it's on the list of things that will make me drink again. It's currently the second most likeliest thing to do the trick (number one is losing my bad foot).

The day it will happen next week is going to be two years and three hundred and three days since my last drink. There will not be two years and three hundred and four days. When it happens, I'm going to drive straight to the Corner Cottage and surprise the hell out of a lot of guys there who probably thought I'd died.

In the scenario I'd just deleted, I talked about skipping the good shit and going directly to Wild Irish Rose. I'm sure even in this economy it's dirt cheap. Not even having the decency to send myself off to the drunk tank on quality bourbon. But when it happens next week, I'll get a bottle of Wild Turkey 101, my old friend. I can always throw my life away on the cheap shit later.

I'll go back to my Elmhurst house, and if the locks haven't been changed, I'll take up residence on that broken down couch again and drink myself through the night. If the electricity hasn't been shut off, I'll be able to plug my phone in and watch some of my shows while doing so. I hate watching shit on my phone, but it'll get me through the night.

The next morning, if I've left myself any hair of the dog, I'll self-administer it and go to 7-Eleven to seek out Monster. I'll get the one with the sugar. Fuck it. By the time I'm in Joliet I'll still be hungover, so I'll stop in at McDonald's for a Double Cheeseburger. Those are the perfect cure for a hangover. By the time I'm home, I'll feel normal. Hell, I might not throw my life away on Wild Irish Rose. If Loudermilk can start over, so can I. Day 1 might happen. So might day 2. I'm sure it will. I'm not entirely stupid. Maybe falling off the wagon will smack some sense into me.

This dread is like a rock in my guts. Maybe I should just get the bottle now.

No. There's a slight chance the thing won't happen. I'm talking a 0.9999999% chance, but I could pull off a miracle. Anyone remember my DUI Diary? What did I say? Always roll the dice. I rolled them then and am the only person I know who was arrested for DUI and was found not guilty.

So yeah. I'll roll the dice.

Two Goodnight, Fuckers remaining . . .

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #350: THE STATE OF ILLINOIS VS. ME

 Remember when the State of Illinois tried to fuck me over on the car that I no longer have? Ever wonder what I said in the letter that I sent to them? The letter that, big shocker, didn't wind up in the correct place? Yeah, some other department got it, and it was shuffled around for a week or so before someone called me and apologized about the whole mess and refunded the money that I'd spent in trying to clear up the mess. Well, wonder no more. Below you will find a slightly redacted version of the letter. Remember: always roll the dice. I was told by many to give up and cut my losses, but I don't ever do that. I fight to the last drop, and it has very rarely failed me. Enjoy!

To whoever reads these things,

 

 

Enclosed, please find a copy of the stunning waste of my tax dollars that I found taped to my door today. I greatly enjoyed your threat. It seems that you are very quick to act when you think you can get money out of me, but any time I need something out of you, suddenly the speed of government crawls to a near halt. I have also sent a similar missive to your portal, not that you will read it. If you did read such messages, we wouldn’t be where we are today. 

 

And how did we get here? A brilliant question. I hope by the end of this letter that you completely understand the process. And yes, this snail mail is necessary. You don’t pay attention to messages sent to you through your online portal. There is no email address I could send something to. Your phone queue is disgusting. I do not have the time to sit on hold for hours until I finally get someone . . . who inevitably says I’m in the wrong place and transfers me. So in effect you have made it nearly impossible to contact you. This is a great practice for a state government. 

 

So here’s what happened. The plates mentioned in the oddly intense threat (two exclamation points?), which are [REDACTED], were attached to a 2012 Honda Civic. That car is now a useless hunk of steel and probably in a junkyard somewhere. I have my suspicions that my insurance was actually able to pay for repairs, and some ill-fortuned person will eventually be driving around in it. Nothing I can do about that. Regardless, this car was involved in a crash that effectively totaled it. In order to get money from my insurance company, I had to prove that I owned this car. However, I didn’t have the title anymore. When I first got the title my grandfather said he’d hold onto it and keep it in a safe place. Sadly he passed away several years ago, so I couldn’t ask him where he put it, and I had no luck in finding it. So I had to suck it up and reach out to you, as unfortunate as that sounds. As I have described above, dealing with the Secretary of State’s office is nearly impossible. I was told by my insurance that before the plague began it would typically take a month to get my title from you. I can’t imagine what it’s like during the plague. I can’t go without a car for an indefinite amount of months, so you had me over a barrel. 

 

Thankfully my insurance rep advised me of an easier, quicker and significantly cheaper way to get my title: go through American Honda for it. They’ll also remove themselves as the lien holder, as I paid this car off years ago. I immediately canceled the check to you, and I wrote to you via your online portal. I was a bit more naïve back then. I thought you actually read those messages. I’m older and wiser now, and I will not rely on that going forward. I think if I broadcast my message out into space like a radio wave, I would have better luck contacting you than by using your online portal. If you had, indeed, read that message, I would not have to sit here writing this lengthy letter to you. 

 

So if [REDACTED] has any designs on getting those plates from me, he’s going to have to go digging around Illinois junkyards (unless we outsource that kind of thing, in which case he will have an even more difficult time). 

 

In short, your entertaining threat is useless. I would be honored if you’d simply cancel my plates, [REDACTED], for my old 2012 Honda Civic and not contact me on this matter ever again. I greatly hope there actually is someone who reads these, but all things considered, I have my doubts. I will also leave a message for [REDACTED] on my door so at least I know someone will be aware of the situation. I’m fairly certain that will cover my bases short of actually going to the office and tacking a copy of this letter to the front door. 

 

Best wishes, 

John Bruni