[ WP ] You are drunk , stumbling around in a bad part of the city as the cab speeds off . The only thing left in your pocket is a $ 10 bill .

I had to get out to vomit. I felt everything way too much: my stomach churned as it tried to digest nearly a gallon of sugary alcohol, the cab ’ s unpredictable jerk to stop and subsequent rapid acceleration through the city streets, the earth spinning in a new direction every time I moved my head while my brain desperately tried to catch up and compensate. I had pushed myself to my limit and now my body was pushing back. Or was it my stomach? I fumbled for the door handle and groaned at the driver to pull over. I was already halfway out the door when the cab came to one last jerking halt. 
 
 All I could manage to think was, I ’ m so sorry, I ’ m so sorry, please make it stop. The cab door slammed shut and I fell to my knees, my hands barely stopping me from headbutting the concrete. Somewhere deep inside me I felt the floodgates had been opened. It was coming now, it was coming and it would be over just like that and then I could get back in the cab and try to close my eyes for the rest of the ride. I turned my head to speak to the driver and instead of “ I ’ m so sorry, ” I managed to say something like “ Uuuhhm suwwhaa, ” before I painted the gutter a shameful shade of brown with an acrid cocktail of girly drinks, stomach acid and takeaway pizza. 
 
 When I looked up the cab had already left. With my jacket on the seat. With my wallet, house keys and phone inside the jacket. Goddammit. Still, the alcohol still running through my veins filled me with childish optimism and determination. I could make it home! I just had to get my bearings and then I could just walk all the way there. Maybe even stop in at McDonald ’ s for breakfast. McDonald ’ s sounded so fucking good. The grease would make everything better, make me think clearer, give me that well needed energy boost to get me home. It didn ’ t matter that my wallet was now somewhere on the other side of town now, I was pumped and ready to roll. Future me would have to deal with the financial issues. I picked myself up off the ground and surveyed the area. 
 
 It was then that I understood why the cab hadn ’ t stuck around. You leave a car running and parked on the side of the road here and you end up with a gun upside your face and no car. And now I was probably about to get a gun upside my face. There was only one thing to do now - walk fast. It was hard work but I managed to get a good stride going. My head lolled back as I put myself on autopilot. I was starting to feel a little less sick and a lot more worried about how I was going to get my stuff back. And then I tripped on something. Probably just a bag of garbage left out on the footpath, I thought to myself. I heard the bag of garbage yelp and whine. 
 
 Concerned about the garbage, I turned to see if it was okay. The garbage was fine but the ragged, malnourished bull terrier laying on top of it seemed upset. He stared at me and I felt his eyes drill deep into my soul. Maybe it was due to the alcohol induced bravery and friendliness or maybe it was my natural stupidity shining through, but I stumbled up to the dog and gave him a pat. I let him lick the vomit off my hand and shoes as a peace offering. It was well received. I had found myself a walking buddy. Thanks to his slightly disturbing appetite for my vomit I decided to nickname him Ralph. Ralph seemed happy to have someone giving him attention, even if it was just me spouting my usual drunk rambling bullshit. 
 
 As we walked felt myself sobering up a little more. As more of my cognitive functions returned, I realised we were getting closer to one of the safer areas of the city. So far, so good. Apart from the cab, nothing too bad had happened to me in one of the more ‘ uncivilised ’ areas of the town. We only had to walk past one shady park and we were home free. I had friends that lived only a few blocks away from the park and there was even a McDonald ’ s close by. Once more the thought of scoffing down some greasy, early morning grub pushed me onwards. I picked up the pace a little and Ralph happily matched me. I think he could already smell the food. 
 
 Nearing the end of the park block I felt like someone was watching me. Ralph ’ s ears were pricked up and he was taking rigid steps. He stopped walking and turned around. I heard footsteps behind me. A lanky figure in a stained, grey hoodie approached us. Even with his hands in his pockets, he was almost jogging. 
 
 “ Oi what the fuck do you think you ’ re doing out here mate? ” the hooded man said, hunching his shoulders and poking his head out towards me. 
 
 “ Uh hey, sorry. I ’ m just on my way through, ” I said. I was sweating - I wiped my brow and tried to make it look as casual as possible. 
 
 The hooded man removed his hand from his pocket, revealing a knife. 
 
 “ Yeah. Nah. Bullshit. You give me everything you ’ ve got on you right now and then you can fuck off out of my turf, ” he said, gesturing with the knife. 
 
 “ Uh, oh okay, ” I stammered. I reached inside my pockets to show him I had nothing to give. First the front, then the back. There was something in my back left pocket. Somehow, I had managed to hang on to a $ 10 bill. I held it out to the hooded man. This was worse than nothing. It looked like I was screwing with him. 
 
 “ Right. You think you ’ re fucking funny do you? ”, the hooded man said, stepping towards me. 
 
 As soon as the hooded man made his move, Ralph jumped and latched onto the hooded man ’ s arm. The hooded man dropped the knife and tried to pry Ralph ’ s jaw open. I stood frozen unable to comprehend what was happening. I had braced myself for the knife attack - and then what? I snapped out of my stupor and snatched up the knife. Now I was in control! I had no idea what to do in a street fight, but I saw an opportunity and I took it. It took one solid kick to the crotch to incapacitate the hooded man. I stood over him while he squirmed on the ground, Ralph still attached to his arm like a sort of bloodthirsty, handbag. 
 
 “ Give me everything you ’ ve got, ” I said. 
 
 Still writhing in pain, the hooded man handed me his wallet, phone and some small plastic bags that quite obviously drugs. I took the money and the phone and threw the drugs back to him. I coaxed Ralph to let go of the man ’ s arm. With his unmangled arm, the hooded man snatched up the drugs, then tried to stand up. He got to his feet, swore at me and slowly made his way across the park. I waited until he was about a hundred metres across the park and then I bolted. I ran, and Ralph ran, and we continued running until we were nearly five blocks past the park. I stopped to catch my breath, check the maps app on my newly acquired phone and locate the local McDonald ’ s. 
 
 Walking to the McDonald ’ s was the most relaxing thing I had done in a long time. The air seemed more crisp, the lights on the city buildings seemed to shine a little more brighter, the sun was beginning to rise and cast a beautiful paleness over everything. Ralph had calmed down and was listening to me ramble again, and was more than likely enjoying it - he definitely wasn ’ t saying otherwise. When we arrived at our breakfast destination I bought myself two of the greasiest things on the menu, followed by the second greasiest thing. Ralph, my humble saviour, declined my offer of breakfast in payment for his services, but when confronted with my surprise gift of ten beef patties he quickly changed his mind. 
 
 Later that day we made our journey home. 
 
 Ralph and I remain friends to this day. 
 
 I never got my fucking jacket back.
