After the fire One snowy Connecticut day, my orange Rabbit wouldn’t start. I had managed to hold on to my sobriety after that ill-fated meeting with the band, which meant I was stone cold sober when I borrowed my roomate’s car to run some errands. I was sober while I adjusted to the unfamiliar feel of a rear-wheel drive. Indeed, I was on the wagon when I lost control of the car and collided with a taxicab. I wasn’t going particularly fast, but I smashed my head into the side of the window. There was a moment where I could see myself from above—yes, that above—before I lost consciousness. I underwent cranial surgery to pull my skull away from my brain. My hospital stay was three weeks long, during which I became friends with the guy in the bed next to me. We passed the days talking about what we were going to do when we were released. Unlike the sordid tales from the county jail, however, we settled on a wine and cheese party. The day after I got out of the hospital, I headed to his house to make good on our plans. I did not draw a sober breath for the next two years. Not long after, I made my final appearance with The Crayons. My signature orange hair was replaced by a buzz cut and fresh scar for the occasion. Hair of the tail between my legs Addictions being as they are, all it took was that sip …
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