Oh my god I'm hungov.... fuck no I'm not, I'm still drunk. I am still very drunk. It's got to be six in the morning. Maybe even earlier. I glance at the clock. 10:30. This isn't right. My last memory before going unconscious is saying "Shit guys, we need to go to bed. The sun's up!" Maybe this is right. I look down. I'm wearing.... a bikini?! Why on earth am I wearing a bikini? Does anyone know what this means? My clothes stayed on all night! I look over; Kevin is snoring. Wait, why the fuck is Kevin in bed next to me? Slowly but drunkenly, it all comes back to me.
I get off work around eleven and head home to let Misha out. I am exhausted and covered in food. Mmmm leftovers. I am in bed, when, a little before midnight, my phone rings. It's Kelly, seeing if I want to go out. I tell her I'm not really up for a party and she informs me that there will be a small get together at Daniel's for hot tubbing with all the people we work with. Ok, I'll be there in ten. I get to the house a little after twelve and open my first beer. I drink in about two minutes and feel it instantly. Oh, right. I just ran my ass off for five hours and have nothing in my system. So I drink another beer. And another. Someone decides we should play kings cup. I'm not sure who it was, but they're a genius. We play a few rounds, none of which we actually finish, and as more people are starting to show up, we decide to go outside. People keep arriving with beer. This is awesome. I'm wearing my bikini under my sundress and at some point lose the dress. Eh, at least I've got the bikini on. We're in and out of the jacuzzi like kids with ADD when I see someone smoking a cigarette. I hate cigarettes with a passion and I'm instantly annoyed by people who smoke them, but I want one, and I want one now. I smoke an entire cigarette and love every puff. I continue to smoke four more. Not knowing what do do with the combination drunk and cigarette high, I head back inside for another round of kings cup. I sit down and play for a bit, but start to get cold so I wander outside to find my dress. On my way out, I kick over a beer can. I bend over to pick it back up, and instead pick up one that is already upright, hold it for a second, then proceed to set it back down. No need to thank me guys, I'm here to help. Daniel laughs at me and tells me I picked up the wrong can. I'm confused, but I bend over and in the process of picking up the overturned can, I knock over the upright one. After continuing this process for several minutes, I'm over it. I find my dress soaking wet and ask Daniel where the dryer is. I throw my dress in and return to the kings cup. At a table full of coworkers, including Kevin, Danny, Tony, Jared, Daniel, Kelly, and Kelly, I take advantage of a moment where everyone is looking away, and flash Kelly. It's official. I am making good, well thought-out decisions. A while later, I convince Kevin that I need help getting my suit from the dryer, and lead him to the laundry room, where I go on to, as he so romantically put it, jump him. We make out for a bit- whether it was thirty seconds or half an hour, I have no idea, until Daniel comes into the laundry room. Oops. I leave, and tell Kelly I'm going home. She let's me know I'm not going anywhere, and that she's got a bed set up for me. I tell Kevin the plan. Three times.
I go to bed, and completely pass out, sprawled across the whole thing. I'm not sure how or when Kevin made it to bed, but I'm grateful he's a gentleman.
The next day at work, Daniel sees me for two shifts. He asks if I'm working a double and I nod. "Why the hell didn't you mention that last night?"
"I don't know. I was drunk!" Shit I'm still drunk. The next night I'm at work, talking to Tory, a manager, who says "So I hear you've been paying attention to Kevin lately." Dear God, I quit.
Showing posts with label drunk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drunk. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
The Safeway Story: Chicken Meets Monkey at 2100h
This actually took place back in October, on Halloween to be exact, but the story itself is so epic that I figured it still needed to be published in some way or another. Hell, the monkey will at least be grateful; he wants this story to go down in history, but his poor monkey brain is so foggy from that night that I'm not sure he could be the one to make it happen.
It's about 7:00 and I'm writing a paper due at midnight. Who assigns papers due on Halloween in college, I'm not quite sure. I have to think that he didn't have a lot of friends during his college days, and is therefore punishing us. I'm actually on a roll for once when my phone rings. It's my boyfriend, Billy, and I'm surprised he's calling so early.
"Hey babe, what's up?"
"Heeeeeey! Baby can you do me a favor and drive me to Safeway?" He's slurring. I hesitate and ask why. He tells me because he and Matt can't drive since they just did fourteen shots each. Of hard liquor. Fourteen. Holy fuck, I'll be there in five minutes.
I get to his house in record time to find him in his living room. In a giant monkey costume. With a cape. And motocross goggles. I turn around to see Matt flying down the stairs in a giant chicken costume. Also wearing a cape. This is going to be a long night. I explain to him that while I love him very much, I have a paper due in four hours and can't babysit tonight. I specifically say that I don't have the patience to pick him up and drag him upstairs if he's passed out on the floor. He assures me this will not be the case and promises not to slip into any mode of retardation.
Billy convinces me that it is imperative that we make a trip to Safeway, right now. I ask what he needs and he, proud as a first grader who aced his first spelling test, produces a grocery list from somewhere inside the monkey suit. The list includes a number of items including dog food, glade scented oil, yogurt, bananas, grapes, eggs and drano, among others. So the three of us pile into the truck, Billy yelling directions from the backseat behind his goggles. I know where we're going, sweetheart. I'm way too sober for this.
We go to the store and Billy immediately starts pushing Matt through the store in a cart, ramming into everything within a mile. We find the Glade section and Billy knocks over an entire display. He's losing his motor skills, fast. I apologize profusely to the woman working, as the look on her face clearly states "I don't get paid enough to put up with this." I know ma'am, neither do I.
I start rushing the trip, realizing that both boys are only going downhill as the booze hits their system. We lose Matt somewhere in produce, and Billy volunteers to find him. How noble of you, honey.
"Chicken? Bgack! Chiiiiiiiiiiiicken! Where are you?! Bgaaaaaack!" He's yelling now and people are starting to stare. Shit, I would be too at this point. We find Matt in the dairy aisle, surrounded by a group of my sorority sisters, holding a carton of eggs. He's giggling and we can't understand why until the girls explain the irony of a chicken holding a carton of eggs. Spare me. So we collect Matt, the eggs, and the rest of the groceries and go to pay.
We get to the car, and Billy, ever the gentleman, tries to load up the truck. Emphasis on tries. While I'm returning the cart he somehow manages to get the carton of eggs and bag of grapes stuck under the rear wheel.
"How the fuck did you run over something already? I have the keys!" I'm more impressed than annoyed at this point. These guys are some sort of special.
We get home and they unload the car, which consists of throwing entire bags or groceries into a pile. I put everything away, and go to find Billy. I'm standing in the hallway, and he walks by, actually bumps into me, and still doesn't notice I'm there. He sits down on the couch, takes off the monkey mask, and proceeds to stare at the wall. I'm about to ask if he's ok, when, in one fluid motion, he passes out whilst sitting and slinks into a heap on the floor. I give Matt the reserved annoyed girlfriend look, and we carry Billy upstairs. Matt leaves me alone to undress him and I finally get him settled into bed.
"Honey do you think you need to throw up?" By this point he's at least conscious again. Sort of. He shakes his head, mumbles that he's fine and starts retching. Shocking. I get him to the bathroom, at which point he's hugging the toilet for dear life, and he starts puking. Everywhere. I get him back to bed half an hour later and ask how he's doing.
"Es tut mir Leid. Ich liebe Sie." Oh right. He gets drunk and turns German. How could I have forgotten? I rub his back and ask if he understands that he's speaking in German. He gets annoyed. "Ja."
"Ok love. And you understand that I speak English?"
"Nein!" I pause, waiting for English. It never comes. He goes off in a stream of German, which I'm sure is utterly profound and should be recorded. I give it about twenty minutes and come back. He seems more coherent, and at this point is speaking English but still throwing in German terms. I ask why he hadn't been speaking English earlier.
"I don't know. I thought you understood Deutsch! Warum sprechen Sie Deutsch nicht?" We go back and forth for about fifteen more minutes before I give in, give him a kiss and tell him to go to bed. I crawl in bed later and he doesn't move, until he wakes up around six and hugs me. "Baby I'm so sorry." If you only knew.
It's about 7:00 and I'm writing a paper due at midnight. Who assigns papers due on Halloween in college, I'm not quite sure. I have to think that he didn't have a lot of friends during his college days, and is therefore punishing us. I'm actually on a roll for once when my phone rings. It's my boyfriend, Billy, and I'm surprised he's calling so early.
"Hey babe, what's up?"
"Heeeeeey! Baby can you do me a favor and drive me to Safeway?" He's slurring. I hesitate and ask why. He tells me because he and Matt can't drive since they just did fourteen shots each. Of hard liquor. Fourteen. Holy fuck, I'll be there in five minutes.
I get to his house in record time to find him in his living room. In a giant monkey costume. With a cape. And motocross goggles. I turn around to see Matt flying down the stairs in a giant chicken costume. Also wearing a cape. This is going to be a long night. I explain to him that while I love him very much, I have a paper due in four hours and can't babysit tonight. I specifically say that I don't have the patience to pick him up and drag him upstairs if he's passed out on the floor. He assures me this will not be the case and promises not to slip into any mode of retardation.
Billy convinces me that it is imperative that we make a trip to Safeway, right now. I ask what he needs and he, proud as a first grader who aced his first spelling test, produces a grocery list from somewhere inside the monkey suit. The list includes a number of items including dog food, glade scented oil, yogurt, bananas, grapes, eggs and drano, among others. So the three of us pile into the truck, Billy yelling directions from the backseat behind his goggles. I know where we're going, sweetheart. I'm way too sober for this.
We go to the store and Billy immediately starts pushing Matt through the store in a cart, ramming into everything within a mile. We find the Glade section and Billy knocks over an entire display. He's losing his motor skills, fast. I apologize profusely to the woman working, as the look on her face clearly states "I don't get paid enough to put up with this." I know ma'am, neither do I.
I start rushing the trip, realizing that both boys are only going downhill as the booze hits their system. We lose Matt somewhere in produce, and Billy volunteers to find him. How noble of you, honey.
"Chicken? Bgack! Chiiiiiiiiiiiicken! Where are you?! Bgaaaaaack!" He's yelling now and people are starting to stare. Shit, I would be too at this point. We find Matt in the dairy aisle, surrounded by a group of my sorority sisters, holding a carton of eggs. He's giggling and we can't understand why until the girls explain the irony of a chicken holding a carton of eggs. Spare me. So we collect Matt, the eggs, and the rest of the groceries and go to pay.
We get to the car, and Billy, ever the gentleman, tries to load up the truck. Emphasis on tries. While I'm returning the cart he somehow manages to get the carton of eggs and bag of grapes stuck under the rear wheel.
"How the fuck did you run over something already? I have the keys!" I'm more impressed than annoyed at this point. These guys are some sort of special.
We get home and they unload the car, which consists of throwing entire bags or groceries into a pile. I put everything away, and go to find Billy. I'm standing in the hallway, and he walks by, actually bumps into me, and still doesn't notice I'm there. He sits down on the couch, takes off the monkey mask, and proceeds to stare at the wall. I'm about to ask if he's ok, when, in one fluid motion, he passes out whilst sitting and slinks into a heap on the floor. I give Matt the reserved annoyed girlfriend look, and we carry Billy upstairs. Matt leaves me alone to undress him and I finally get him settled into bed.
"Honey do you think you need to throw up?" By this point he's at least conscious again. Sort of. He shakes his head, mumbles that he's fine and starts retching. Shocking. I get him to the bathroom, at which point he's hugging the toilet for dear life, and he starts puking. Everywhere. I get him back to bed half an hour later and ask how he's doing.
"Es tut mir Leid. Ich liebe Sie." Oh right. He gets drunk and turns German. How could I have forgotten? I rub his back and ask if he understands that he's speaking in German. He gets annoyed. "Ja."
"Ok love. And you understand that I speak English?"
"Nein!" I pause, waiting for English. It never comes. He goes off in a stream of German, which I'm sure is utterly profound and should be recorded. I give it about twenty minutes and come back. He seems more coherent, and at this point is speaking English but still throwing in German terms. I ask why he hadn't been speaking English earlier.
"I don't know. I thought you understood Deutsch! Warum sprechen Sie Deutsch nicht?" We go back and forth for about fifteen more minutes before I give in, give him a kiss and tell him to go to bed. I crawl in bed later and he doesn't move, until he wakes up around six and hugs me. "Baby I'm so sorry." If you only knew.
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