Drunken Sailors!

Recently I have been very busy working on my novel, and have found little to write about my adorable little barrier island. This is rare, as I do have a lot to say about the lushy people that live here.

We're all drunks, hell AC is next door. This is clear when entering the grocery store where half of the customers are visibly hungover!

Atlantic City is fueled by 24 hour bars, keeping the city liquored up enough to forget that in the casinos no one wins but the casinos. We (the people of Brigantine) live here all year round; can’t we resist the temptation to constantly drink?!

It’s common to hear of neighbors that never approach the casinos, and never gamble. However it is very common to hear stories in Wawa, and on the bus about what alcoholics we all are. There is much evidence to prove that Brigantine is the most alcoholic island on the east coast.

Taking cabs in Brigantine is the preferred mode of transportation for all of those that aren't friends of "Bill". It is very common hearing of people that leave their cars parked in casinos or in safe lots for an entire weekend. Taking cabs across the bridge is the safest way in or out of Brigantine. It's cheaper than a DUI or a drunk and disorderly.

In November 2007 I walked home from Harrah’s when I got to the middle of the bridge two police cars pulled up asking me what I was doing. I’d like to think that they were afraid that I was trying to commit suicide, but what actually happened was there had been a hit and run where the car was abandoned, and they thought I was the culprit.

As you can guess I am a frequenter of this taxi service, for two reasons:
One: I just got a DUI in Atlantic city.
Two: I drink a TON, and the bus just isn't an option a lot.

(a side note)

Both of my jobs involve drinking, and it is very hard for me to just go home and have a beer, instead of going out to "wind down". I need my moment at a bar; by the time that moment's over I'm so tired that walking to the bus terminal, or taking the Jitney, then the 501 home just isn't ok.

So between 2am and 5am the stories you hear in the Brigantine cabs are so wild, that they would curl the toes of those people who live and work on normal schedules.

Since they all mostly know what I do for a living there's one driver that fucks with me a little more than I like. He likes to talk about my jobs, and always looks at me as if he were hungry. When I drink I have very loose lips. I talk, and I'll talk to most anyone after a certain number of Coronas. So as sorry as I am to say it, I would say something to this ass hole bout the way he looks at me, but he knows a little too much for me to play with fire.

Getting back on topic, these cab drivers always say what is said in the cab stays in the cab, but that line is BULLSHIT! These guys will tell you everything that went on in the night, about every drunken idiot, and about every little piece of gossip that surrounds the island.

The cattiness of all these people makes sense in many ways as it’s a tiny island, and outside of the antics of Atlantic City, Brigantine is BORING.

Either way, it is clear Brigantine is filled with a lot of drunken sailors, and a lot more drunks.