The Wheatfields Story

On July 17, 2012 by Kim

This but with way less civilization

I have told this particular story so many times, I figured I should go back to when it actually happened. This is taken from an e-mail I wrote on 1/21/07 titled “Funny Stories.” I should also note that this recipient never responded, probably because she was shaking her head at my stupidity.

 

Thursday night, I decided I’d go to that Carlo Rossi party I told you about. On the way to get the wine, Laura and Becka asked us to pick them up Boone’s Farm. So I decided that Boone’s sounded like a really good idea and got one for myself as well. So, I made my “special” Boone’s which is where I drink it down to the label and fill it back up with vodka and I topped it off with some peach schnapps. And, I had a small half gallon bottle of Rossi. Well, it was actually 1.5 liters of 10% alcohol by volume white wine Rossi. So I drank some Rossie before T-sports and then after T-sports practice, Julie and I met back up with Tyler and Greg and we all walked over to some house which is behind Carpet Two. While there, I finish both of my drinks. The result of which was that I blacked out. Tyler was supposed to split his with Greg, but he ended up drinking most of their gallon bottle and he obviously blacked out. I don’t remember anything about leaving the party but evidently we were about to leave with Greg around 12:30, he went back inside to get someone and then when he came back out, Tyler and I were gone. Next, there are only three distinct things that I remember: Tyler and I climbing over the waist high median of the highway, Tyler falling down in the snowy wheatfields and me helping him up, and finally, us climbing over a barb wire fence. The next thing that happened was that I “came to,” which basically means I came out of being blackout drunk, at around 2am, in the middle of the wheatfields, which are snowy and cold. I realize that Tyler and I are just walking. Just walking in the wheatfields. It’s below 20 degrees out and slowly I realize there is no reason to be walking in the wheatfields at two in the morning. I was kinda in the really drunk panic mode. I look out and way off in the distance, I see a bunch of lights and my first instinct is to just walk to the lights because that must be the city. About a split second later, I realize that the lights are actually the State Pen, so I keep looking out for something that will tell me how to get home. Then I see way off in the distance off to my left the 2nd ave freeway exit. You know, the one that comes out by El Sombrero. So anyways, I call over to Tyler and tell him that’s where we need to go. He just says no. I try to pull him in the right direction but he shakes out of my grip and just starts walking off in the other direction. I call after him but at this point, I feel like there is nothing else I can do, so I turn and leave the wheatfields. I walked all the way out of the fields and come out at the end of 2nd ave. I walk all the way down 2nd and the whole time I’m calling Laura and Grace and  Meghan. They didn’t answer for a while but finally I got a hold of Grace and ask her to come pick me up. I tell her that I’m just going to keep walking and I’ll let her know where to meet me when she finally finds a sober person to drive. By the time she picked me up, I was out in front of Safeway. I called Tyler while I was in the car and tried to convince him to walk into town. He tells me he will and I ask him to call me back when he finds a point of reference. Twenty minutes pass and I call him again to ask where he is. He can only tell me that he’s at the railroad tracks. I tell him again to walk towards town and find a point of reference. When I got back to the projects, the boy I liked called and asked to come over to my house and watch TV. And although I was blackout drunk 30 to 40 minutes earlier, I thought it was a really really good idea and he came over. I put on an episode of Dexter, a showtime show about a serial killer, which is so setting the right mood, I know. Anyways, I pass out twenty minutes in. Smooth move. He evidently passed out too and woke up at 4am and left.

 

Tyler and I now

Tyler and I now… happy and healthy

The next day, I wake up at 8:30 in the morning and I was just so scared for Tyler. I sort of realized that i never spoke to him after that second call. I went over to Julie’s house that day because we needed to watch a movie for our advanced film class. Tyler comes out of his room in his boxers and he’s just all sorts of torn up. He had lines of scratches on his forehead, scratches on his back, on the top of his head, and he was limping. Evidently he “came to” in the middle of an empty field at 5am, no lights, no roads, no houses in sight. Just a snowy field. He described it as the scariest moment of his life. He lost his phone so he couldn’t call anyone so he then just decided to try to find civilization. At one point he said he curled up in the fetal position on the ground to keep him warm. He contemplated sleeping there and then realized that he would probably die and he got back up to walk again. He walked for an hour before he found a trailer. He knocked on the door and apologized for waking the guy up and asked him for a ride back to town. The guy must’ve been a bit scared because Tyler was all bloody and such. He returned home at 6am and had no idea how he ended up in the wheatfields or why. I shed some light on things but we both still don’t know why we decided to go out there. I felt really guilty at first for leaving him, but he knows that I was really drunk and that I tried to take him with me. I’ve been sore for the past two days, and I have bruises up and down my legs, but I am definitely not as bad as Tyler. We’ve moved beyond the whole thinking that we could have died thing and we’ve moved right along to claiming the most ridiculous drunk story ever told. We were telling people at my party on Friday and they would just be speechless. No one can really answer that story with anything. So Tyler and I normally finish with the fact that we’ll never drink Rossi again.

And that’s my amusing story. In other news, it iced over friday night of my party. Jack came over unfortunately and wouldn’t leave for a long time. He stumbled out and instantly ate shit outside. So he’s just laying on my lawn and I just figure he’ll get up. When I leave the house 5 minutes later, he’s still out there and is like sleeping. So I kick him and tell him to wake up and he just says no. I tell him to get up, he says no. This repeats about 5 or 6 times until finally he opens his eyes and looks up at me and says, “Wetter!” I then help him up and tell him to walk home and he stumbled off in the distance.

 

This was my life in college. To say I’ve toned down and gotten smarter is an understatement. Let’s just say I’m happy to no longer be in a place in my life where I think the above story is acceptable. Also, look, I’ve always been this verbose!

2 Responses to “The Wheatfields Story”

  • T-Bone

    A classic Kim Wetter tale! Thank god life is not nearly as shit showy. Although I do miss the days of Boone’s Farm mimosas AKA Boonemosas. But I definitely don’t miss the everclear mixed with beer AKA everbeers that were used to roofie myself and everyone else who dared to enter the 7th circle of hell, AKA The Slunt

  • T-Rection

    I don’t know who this T-Bone be, but I claim falsified information on this “everbeer” situation. Unless this was post-’08 – a la Charlie’s house/townie house status – I don’t think the Slunt ever so much as owned a bottle of everclear, let alone enough to offer up everbeers to everyone who “dared to enter.” That woulda been a whole mess o’ people. That being said, plenty of other very clearly stupid ideas were launched from that glorious subterranean home, and many a person quite willingly succumbed to the zestful, live-in-the-now idiocy that was customary per said “7th circle of hell.” In summation: get your story straight and quitcher bitchin.

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