A Po-boy's tale of Nawlins Champagne and Cocaine Chapter 1

Champagne and Cocaine (as told by Danny)
Thursday 4:00 p.m.

I woke up this morning, yawning, and still drunk from the night before. I had spent the past two weeks with my parents dog, on the couch. Having recently withdrawn from all of my college classes, I came home to rehab. My rehab consisted of waking up around 11:00 a.m., eating a bowl of Raisin bran, watching TNT’s drama in the daytime, fetching the ball with my dog, calling ex-girlfriends and harassing them, going to stupid classes on European literature, and taking out the trash. I had become a hermit, a recluse, a forgotten soul.
But, when all hope was abandoned. Zoned out on the couch, sporting my flying pig boxer shorts and a tank top, my sister arrived. She looked like a dream. Her hair was sun bleached blonde, her skin auburn, her eyes glowing, she said, “hello”.
“What?” I replied stumbling for words.
“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaanny, how have you been?” she said as she dropped her portfolio of paintings that would make Picasso jealous.
“I’ve been average, average.”
“What? Why aren’t you at college?”
“The institution let me down?”
“Hmm,” she was confused. Here I was, the source of information to her for the last nineteen years, empty. No information, all the potential to be ‘whatever I wanted to be’, but maybe that’s what I am. Alone, on the couch with my flying pig boxers watching the Superstation. Watching episodes of Law and Order back to back, followed by Die Hard marathons and cheesy movies on Comedy Central. I was a waste of space and I enjoyed it. I’d spent the last five years at three different colleges, flunking out of two of them. Stumbling around with course loads too hard or too easy to keep me stimulated. I didn’t know what it was that I wanted to do with my life, so I spent most of my hours partying hard and studying soft. I’m not sure when it started, but I knew I was legally insane and certifiably an alcoholic.
“Yeah, I came home. I was in a rough spot,” I said, trying to come up with an excuse for my lethargic disposition.
“Cool.” she said. I had to smile. She looked like a fucking after-school special superstar..
“Why are you here?” But, before she could answer the door slammed and this lanky looking surfer dude came stumbling down the steps. In his right hand a bottle of champagne, and in his left a cell phone, he was screaming into it like he was in a crowded room.
“Nawlins!!!!Mardi Gras? No man, fuck that, it’s nawlins who gives a shit. Yeah man, I’m here at my girls spot, dude, we’re about to head out to the burgh’ we’ll be there in like 4 maybe 5 (takes a big gulp from the bottle) SICKBIRD!!!!!!!!!whoooooo!!!! hours, killer, get that fat ass off the couch and be prepared for the weekend of your life bitch!!!! COOOOOOOOOOOOkie Crisp!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
My sister smiled. The dude pretty much fell down the stairs. My dog barked, I laughed. I had to admit, he was a cool-looking dude. He still was sporting his beach gear. He had flip-flops on, a red quicksilver bathing suit, a t-shirt that said supported Mushmouth from Fat Albert, a Cadillac hat tilted to the side, and a huge grin on his face. This kid was optimum man, prime.
“Danny, this is Billy, Oh my god, you’ll love him, you know how you always like trip on your feet and do stupid stuff, he does too!!!”
“I do stupid stuff?”
“Yeah, like remember that one time when we were climbing on the tree and you were climbing and you fell and then your underwear got caught on that branch and then you were hanging from the branch and we all laughed at you, oh my god that was hilarious,”
“Shit,”
“Billy does stuff like that too!!!”
“What?” This kid was a complete jerk-off. What the fuck was my sister doing with this stoner piece of shit asshole.
“What’s up, brah,” Cheech replied.
“Nothing much man, what are you kids up to this weekend?” But before they could answer Billy took another huge gulp from the bottle of champagne and then passed it to my sister. She also took a huge sip, Billy then looked at the empty love seat and proceeded to pass out on it.
“We’re going to drive to Pittsburgh, and then to New Orleans,” my sister said with a huge grin.
“Who’s driving?”
“Well, Billy’s going to drive us to Pittsburgh.....”
“What?” I said in disbelief, “This dude is wasted?!”
“He’ll be ok,”
“Let me put on some pants,”