Brian used to tell me his drunk stories. We’d be sitting in the break-room, me eating dinner and Brian smoking a cigarette and drinking beer out of a styrofoam cup, Brian saying that this was the last night (seriously, man. I’m serious about this shit, tonight’s the last night) he was ever drinking again. 

Last weekend, Brian told me, he went to a party in Maryland. He went with this girl Megan he was seeing. About midnight he went to find her and she was making out with this other guy. At this point in the night, Brian said, he was gone, just obliterated. He grabbed the guy and hit him and the guy fell to the ground and he grabbed Megan and was dragging her out of the house to the car. She was kicking and screaming and he was calling her a filthy goddman whore. He got her to the car and locked her in the trunk. He drove off. I was going like a hundred twenty, he said, and it felt like nothing. I was crawling, man, just crawling like I was going twenty or something. I don’t know how I wasn’t stopped. It’s crazy. Megan’s still screaming and kicking in the back. I could hear it. But I didn’t care. I didn’t feel anything. I had the window down, and I was just feeling the wind. I got home and went to bed. I forgot she was in the trunk. The next morning I wake up and someone’s banging on my door. It’s my neighbor. He’s like, There’s something in your trunk and it don’t sound too happy. I go out and open it and she gets out and she’s yelling and screaming at me. She’s like, You crazy motherfucker, I could have died in there. I just say to my neighbor, She was cheating on me, and he nods. He nods and walks away. 

Brian took a long drag and stubbed out his cigarette. Fuck man, he said. I need to stop this shit. It’s gone on way too long.

What happened to Megan? I said.

She calmed down, he said. Eventually. I’m gonna see her tonight.

Brian looked tired. He looked like he was going to fall asleep. I wondered if I put him in the trunk of his car he’d find it funny.

Fuck man, he said. Fuck this shit.