The Peak of Stupidity
by Steve West on June 15, 2022
By far, the stupidest thing I ever did was at my brother's bachelor party almost 40 years ago. The memory of it still haunts me. A group of his friends (around 25 - I knew some, but we had gone separate paths shortly after High School) met at the house of one his construction co-workers in the Maryland countryside. The place was remote enough that the co-worker regularly had bonfires in this huge firepit. The party had the usual trappings for the event excluding strippers but including 8mm porn flicks, joints, booze (a lot of booze), really loud music, fireworks, and laughter (a lot of laughter).
I had driven myself to the event and was playing music on my car stereo near the bonfire. The circular firepit sat in a very slightly sloped patch of lawn surrounded by large rocks and far enough from the house to be safe. Cars were rarely driven up to the pit except for occasions like this where music was necessary. I had a nice sound system in my car that far exceeded any portable tape deck of that era, so I was encouraged to drive up to the pit. It had rained earlier, so the ground was a little mushy, but it had little impact on the drunken revelry.
As the evening progressed, the drunker and more stoned I became 'til it reached the point of absurdity. Although, I was probably less drunk/stoned than 2/3 of the group. The time came for a change in music, so I staggered to my car. I opened the door and slumped into the driver's seat with my legs remaining outside the car. Leaning to change cassettes in the player (this was a year or so before CD's), I lost whatever sense of balance I had and fell over into the passenger seat so that I was essentially reclining across the front seat with my feet on the ground. In the process of getting myself upright, I grabbed the gear shift, putting the car in Neutral. Dazed and confused, it took me a few moments to realize the car was slowly rolling. The slight incline the car was setting on was enough to have it start rolling at only 1 - 2 mph. It was enough, though, to make the car drift along with my feet still planted on the ground. With the car door still open, it painfully creeped up my shins and then my thighs. It inexorably pulled me from the car before crushing anything soft and vital, and continued its slow, driverless roll. Falling from the car made my body twist into such a position that although I lay supine, my legs were under the car as my upper half was face-down in the wet grass.
The only fortunate thing about this happening was the incline was so slight, that the car soon lost momentum. Before it did, however, the front tire on the driver's side rolled over my legs. Because the ground was soft and wet from the rain and the tracks from my driving in, the car merely pushed my legs into the ooze instead of breaking them. The only thing wounded was my dignity. I came to the realization later that I had actually run myself over!
Inebriated as I was, I retained enough sense to not try and drive home. I spent the night in the bushes at the front of the house. I'm not sure I could have gone elsewhere because I had just vomited in the bushes on the other side of the front steps. But sleeping (unconsciousness, really) in the bushes seemed like what I deserved for my debauchery. Fortunately, my brother's wedding wasn't scheduled until a week later. That gave me a little time (I needed it) to recuperate as I served as his best man. I've never told him this story.
Two Replies to The Peak of Stupidity
Steve West | June 15, 2022
I laugh about it now. "Haunt" was just hyperbole. The real scary part was where the car was headed if it hadn't stopped. Straight over the edge of a small cliff into a rock quarry. Like I said, I laugh now but it still embarrasses me.
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Scott Hardie | June 15, 2022
I confess temptation to post a gif from The Hangover...
It's clear that this incident, and how wrong it could have gone, still weighs heavily on you.
But I'm a big believer in "no harm, no foul." You didn't hurt yourself or anybody else, nor even damage the car.
And it's not like you intended for any of this to happen. When you started the story, I worried that you were going to write about the one time that you drove drunk, not able to think clearly about the danger. But no, it turned out to be a mere accident of drunken clumsiness.
And a lesson was learned, too! I believe in forgiving young people who know that they made dumb mistakes that could have (or did) come with a hefty cost, because if there's anyone who will never make that mistake again, it's the person who learned first-hand. I assume you've never done anything like this since.
It's not my place to tell you how to feel. But if I were you, I'd try to forgive myself. Surely the guilt you've carried around for this long exceeds the scope of the mistake, right?
What do you think your brother would make of the story if you told him today?