Eight hours later, he woke up. The last thing he remembered was turning out the light to go to sleep. Before that, coming home and opening the door, and the taxi ride home. Admittedly, there were moments from the bar that were hazy. But mostly, the evening conjured lucid images and clear recollection of who-said-what. No food was regurgitated. No face was lost. He was wearing pants, and what’s more, they were his own.
Unused to the moistness in his mouth and the lack of pounding in his forehead, Joel got up. He felt the cold floor under his left foot. His right foot remained cozy. An odd feeling, he recalled, since it was usually just the opposite. And then Joel realized: the shoe was on the other foot.
How could he have been so stupid? He’d been warned, and he’d been on his guard. But somehow it had happened anyway. He was the drunk one. He was the crazy one. He was the one who made everyone else laugh and feel better about themselves. He was the object of the next-day-conversations. But not this time. This time he was nobody. Nobody! Someone else was crawling to the toilet right now looking for some water, and he was left to ponder, with full mental acuity, his new role.
Did he like it, this next-day sobriety? He had to admit that he did. Both physically and spiritually. But he couldn’t shake the guilt this new shoe-wearing brought with it. Who was everyone making fun of? Who disgusted the women? He was mentally very strong: he had been lost for 5 hours at Six Flags when he was 9 and developed quite an emotional rhinoceros skin. He could take the abuse. But who else amongst them could? Anthony? Ha. He’d be on the phone with his ex within 3 minutes. How about Chris? Doubtful, as he’s so close to his parents. Ken? A definite possibility. He had a certain twinkle behind his eye, something that said “willing to fight and disrobe”.
But was that it for Joel? One night of responsibility and his life forever changed? His role usurped by an as-of-yet unnamed clown? A place saved for him amongst a school of fish, individuality lost? No, not this time. Not any time. Left foot or right foot, Joel was not going out like that! He rummaged through his cabinets; unfortunately years of bad hangovers had taken their toll on his alcohol supply. That was it. Joel had had enough. He put on his other shoe and headed to the store. Now the shoes were on both feet! He had hours of drunkenness to make up for, and scores of people to embarrass himself in front of. This was his destiny, and he wasn’t going to let anyone mess with it, no matter which foot the shoe was on.