Another year older and another year wiser, does that sound familiar? Yeah well, that statement didn’t apply to me at all, ever. In fact I do believe my choices and logical thinking got worse. Here’s an example;


One summer night my good buddy Bobby and I were drinking in one of our locals pubs. And just like all good summer nights, we were once again very very drunk. By 3am on this particular night we had reached the point of being so drunk, you can sit and talk about anything at all and every word out of your mouth is profound. Bobby had just ended a long term relationship with Cathy. Up until that very week the two of them were freaking inseparable, totally,totally in love. Something happened and they broke up, why, it doesn’t really matter does it?  She was now dating this other guy and that was the end of it for Bobby and Cathy.

So on this summer night, Bobby and I were determined to drink “his” pain away. Bobby was in a lot of pain and I was just helping him thru the pain. Actually it was me and a bottle of whiskey helping him through the pain. Try as I might, he just wasn’t going to let it go. He couldn’t handle her being with someone else. He wasn’t up to being consoled. The whiskey, drugs and smoke just wasn’t doing it that night. His heart had been broken and he needed to set things right. And when you’re as drunk as we were that night you had to believe you can make things right, at least till you sobered up. Instead of letting this go, Bobby said “I need to see her right now, this minute.”


I said,” Whoa bro, its 3 am. Wait till the morning.”

He said,” No man, right now. I’ve got to see her right now. We need a plan.”

So like the true drunk Irishman we were we came up with “THE PLAN.” A plan to end all plans, the most magnificent of all the ideas ever conceived in all of time. Until now, all other plans since the dawn of time were meaningless and could not hold a candle to our plan. I sat in awe drinking my beer and smoking as Bobby talked of this plan and of all the reasons why his master plan would work.

The Plan;

Cathy lived on the sixth floor, the very top floor of her apartment building. Her bedroom window was in the alleyway, in the back of the building on the sixth floor.

Phase I – Get a big long rope.

Phase II – Go to Cathy’s building with the rope and to climb the stairs to her rooftop.

Phase III – Tie one end of the rope around my waist and the other to Bobby’s waist.

Phase IV – Using my incredible beer muscles, I will gently lower Bobby over the roof edge (six stories up mind you). He will then scale the side of the building till he arrives at           her bedroom window. He will then quietly and expertly climb into her bedroom. Then profess his love for her. She will fall madly “Back in love” with him and all will be as it should.

What a plan, you have to agree.  I bet you could do some research right now and you would still not find a more perfect plan anywhere.


So with 12 more beers and rope in hand we went into her building, climbed the stairs to the rooftop and prepared to put into place the most amazing plan ever.

We located the section of the roof that was directly above Cathy’s window and proceeded to tie one end of the rope around my waist. Then Bobby takes his end of the rope and ties a knot around his waist. We drink a few beers to toast what will be the obvious success of this brilliant plan as he makes his way to the rooftop edge. Not once did we ever think this was a bad idea. Not once did we think that Bobby could DIE.


Bobby straddles the roof edge while I stand about 30 feet from the edge. The one thing we were sure of was that the rope needed to be taught before Bobby goes over the edge of the building, too much slack could result in Bobby falling too fast and possibly dragging me over the rooftop with him. If that was to happen, we would both be splattered into the concrete pavement of the alleyway 75 feet below? The ultimate end result would mean that we could drink NO MORE. And that my dear reader is not an option for Irishmen from Inwood.

So, I get in position and grabbed hold of my end of the rope. I lean slightly backwards to give the rope even less slack as Bobby puts one leg then the other over the rooftop and slides off like those SWAT guys do in the movies. We had it all figured out, right?

Well the one thing we didn’t plan on was the dead weight I would be carrying once Bobby was hanging in the air hanging. The second his weight pulled on the rope it yanked me towards the roofs edge so quickly that I never had a chance to get my footing. As he began a freefall downward I tried to gain my balance and footing. I could not and my body was dragged to the edge, luckily there was a 3 foot high brick parapet around the perimeter of the roof. I slammed head first into that wall and for a moment I didn’t feel any pull on the other end of the rope. Had Bobby fallen? Did his rope become untied? I hadn’t heard the thud of his body hitting the concrete; I actually knew what that would sound like. Shaking the cobwebs from my head that hit the brick wall, I was able to slowly sit up. Now I could feel his weight I could hear the rope as it stretched over the roofs edge. I could hear the scrapping of his body as it brushed the brick of the building below.

Bobby had dropped almost 20 feet at the same speed that I had been dragged. He slammed into the side of the building. The rope swayed right and left. Somehow it slowed down its swinging and settled. I am now holding onto a very heavy Bobby on a rope.

Suddenly I feel the rope slacken and I’m like “Oh shit he fell, I lost him.”

In a loud yet terrified whisper I call over the edge “Bobby you still there?”

He says, “I’m okay I’m at her bedroom window now”, with the weight suddenly gone from the rope. I can stand up and peek over the edge and I see his feet going into the window.


We survived this minor setback of “The Plan.”


Man that was close, I plop down onto the rooftop and with y back against the parapet wall I crack open a beer and spark up a joint. As I’m enjoying myself and catching my breath from nearly dying a sudden thought occurred to me. We never talked about how the hell he was going to get back up to the roof? Oh well, I guess we’ll figure something out when the time comes.  I drink a few more beers and eventually fall asleep with my end of the rope still hanging over the roof edge. The next thing I remember is Bobby standing over me saying, “OB get up let’s go, come on lets go.”

I look up at Bobby, amazed that he is standing there over me. We grab our rope and what’s left of our dignity and started to walk across the roof towards the stairwell. I look around the roof and it dawned on me that we both could have, should have died here tonight, it was so close. As we walk down the many many stairs out of the building and into the city night I said to Bobby, “So how did it go? Did you tell her that you loved her and how you want her back?”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute then he stops and takes a seat on the hood of a parked car.

He starts to compose his thoughts then he looks over at me and begins:


“After I stepped off the roof edge and slammed into the side of the building wall and after I finally stopped swinging back and forth.  I thought to myself, this might have been a bad idea. But what the hell, I’m here now right? So I had no choice but to climb into Cathy’s window at the very least to just save my ass. Once inside her room I crept over to her bed to awaken the girl that I love. I was going to tell her that we were meant to be together forever, that my love for her was endless. As I looked down at her angelic sleeping face and the soft bed that I had known so well.  I noticed that there were 4 not 2 feet and the end of the bed. She had another man in her bed. SHIT, now what?

So I sat there on the bedroom floor for a moment to get my head together. I came to a conclusion.   After what I just did for her, hanging off the roof like that, “well hell she just didn’t deserve me.” So I sneaked through her apartment and out the front door.”

Now, I’m not sure if this is a good ending, but that’s how it happened. He had love and he lost love, but you cannot fault the guy for trying.

We went to some sleazy afterhours bar and drank some more.


I guess the best laid plans can backfire on you.


In this instance our best plan didn’t include Bobby’s girl getting laid.

Love Stinks! sometimes





Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s