Total Redial Steely Dan - Aja I find it is really odd the way some behavioral patterns stick with us regardless of age. Prior to my getting married I chose to move back in with my Mom and Dad for roughly four months. This was primarily so I could save some extra cash and hell I thought it would be a last hurrah live in with Mom and Dad as well. It was late in the winter during these four months and I was heading over to an old friends place for a drink and to watch a hockey game. I had dinner with my folks and said good-bye and like a good kid I told my folks where I was going and they shouldn't wait up cause I would probably be a little late. At 29 years old this was probably not really necessary but old habits die hard. I arrived at Pierre's place and Duane was already there. We decided early in the game that we would be "drinking". Seeing as we only had 3/4 of one 40 oz bottle of Rye Whiskey and a 2 liter bottle of Coke we had to come up with some creative method of drinking too much too fast. In a short three or four minutes I suggested that we half fill shot glasses with Rye and then top them off with Coke. This would be called a "Brown Fart". After About 18 Brown Farts each we were lunging around like morons trying to decide what to do next. We had the music blaring and I would say we were generally having a "good time" until... At about 2:00 AM Pierre decided that it had been ages since we had talked to Rob who had moved to L.A. to pursue a career in the movie business. We agreed that we should call him right away. While Pierre fumbled about looking for Rob's phone number I grabbed the phone and began demonstrating just how we would address Rob when he answered. This involved a great deal of loud graphically descriptive sentences punctuated by an abundance of unnecessary swear words matched in a nonsensical fashion. Suddenly, through the blaring music and screaming friends I hear an extremely familiar voice on the other end of the phone. My immediate thought is "I didn't even dial a number yet". I hear the voice again "Tommy?". A miserable sickly feeling washes over me as the puzzled self assembles in my useless little mind. I have inadvertently hit the "redial" button on the phone and of course Pierre's last call was to me at my folks' place. IT'S MY MOM! I just finished swearing like a truck driver in my Mom's face. "Mom?..." I said laced with guilt. "Tom, I am very offended and you are drunk, I want you home right now"...click! I turn my head to see both Duane and Pierre looking at me with jaws on the floor. Pierre has already turned down the music. They are both amazed and are beginning to see some humor in this situation. I see no humor and as I hang up the phone I realize there will be no more fun this evening. Way too much guilt for fun now and... Mom wants me home. I seem to have automatically sobered up to a point. I felt like I was nine years old again and I had stayed out in the park past my curfew. I HAD to go home right away. I made my way down stairs to get my coat on. Both Pierre and Duane were displaying an ultimately responsible gesture by demanding that I stay there until I sober up. They also tried valiantly to tackle me and remove my keys as I made my way up the stairs. If my Mom had know the risk I was taking by driving drunk she would have demanded that I just stay put but emotions seemed to have robbed us all of our sensibilities. I made it home, I managed to sleep and oddly to this day not a word has been uttered between my Mom and I regarding this event. I recount the story and enjoy a laugh at how ridiculously unfortunate I was that night. My Mom seems to still have some respect for me or maybe it's just that a mother's love is all forgiving? Bottom line... Shit happens!