deputydawg
Lieutenant Commander
- Joined
- Aug 29, 2004
- Messages
- 1,607
Since it is winter I have no new boating mishaps, but do find myself in a few huntin stories. <br />Last night I pulled one of the dumbest things since high school. <br />Went coon huntin with a friend of mine. When he picked me up he handed me a glass, which held a shot of Windsor. I figured well I know him well and he looks sober. I also thought he didn't drink much hunting. It was cold so what the heck I took the shot. <br />We hunted for a few hours and got a few decent ones. I noticed though that my friend was getting slower as the night went on. <br />Well, we stopped to check some of my traps and found a skunk in one, still very alive and very angry. My buddy being the great guy he was released the skunk for me without my asking. Because of that I couldn't smell any booze on him.<br />As I got back in after shutting the last gate of the night, I saw him mixing more Windsor in his pop bottle. Turns out he was sipping every time we got out of the truck and every time we got back in. I wasn't paying attention, didn't even see he had the bottle with us. I just figured one shot to start off the night.<br />Anyway was we are driving down the road I find he is weaving and swerving close to both ditches. I tell him it is time for me to go home. I also tell him he is too drunk and should let me drive. Well just to prove me wrong he takes a minimum maintenance road. We end up slipping and sliding for 2 miles in axle deep mud. He is bragging that his truck has 300k miles on it, and runs mud great. I remind him that I have been mudding with him before and know this, and ask if I can try it in the mud. He says no and keeps it on the floor. I start hearing a rod knocking and tell him he better back out of it. He says it is fine, the "old girl is just talkin to us". This road is narrow, dirt, sharp turns with narrow bridges no railings. Well somehow we make it through the mud and he gets me home. I get out and the rod is still knockin bad. <br />This is very un-like this guy to drink and drive, or drink and hunt, or drink enough to get drunk. Now he tells me that the bottle was new opened that night and he drank the whole thing except for my shot. Take that back, after I saw the bottle I poured my coffee mug full and dumped it out to keep him from it.<br />Today I called him and told him I will never hunt with him again if he is drinking. I told him the position I was in with a drunk driver and me in the truck. He first denied being drunk, then later appologized for what he had done. We might have a few while sitting on the river bank fishing, but never again hunting or driving around.<br />Oh yeah, I got two raccoons, he got sprayed by the skunk, fell in the muddy creek, ripped his pants bad, and lost one glove along with toasted his engine, and shot the box of his pickup. On the last raccoon I threw in the back of his truck, after running on the mud, he thought it was still alive so he put his pistol to its head and fired. I told him he was going to shoot his truck, then I backed way way up. Sure enough.<br />Can't believe I was in that position, and can't believe I didn't see he was getting drunk. Goes to show can't even trust friends.
