One morning Cal the Cop text messaged me that he was drunk-golfing with his best friend, Joe. A few hours later, I received a text that drunk-golfing had turned into drunk-trip planning, and the two of them were sobering up and heading down to Atlantic City for the night.
“You should come,” he said.
“Nah, I’m not cool enough to ride in a Camaro,” I replied, knowing full-well he was just messing with my head as per usual.
Something extremely disappointing happened to me within the last 6 months. I fell out of lust with the guy I pined over for over ten years. Without once having an actual conversation with him, I decided we would be married when I was old enough.
Before you think I’m some sort of stalker (although binoculars may or may not have been used once or twice to spy out the window), the guy I’m referring to is my cousin’s close friend, Pete.
Pete was always at my cousin’s house for his birthday, the Superbowl, the boxing matches, but we were always on opposites sides of the room and I was never close enough with him to be anything more than “Hi, Bye” acquaintances. While everyone else was yelling at the television or Continue reading →
The night I met the guy that I’ve referred to as Billy, I couldn’t keep my alcohol down. Not because I was vomiting — but because I was retarded. First, as we were dancing, I received a text message. I had been holding my Malibu Bay Breeze and my iPhone in one hand. When I saw my screen light up, I turned my wrist to get a better view of the message. In doing so, a little thing called gravity kicked in and half of my drink spilled out of my cup and onto the floor. Or what I thought was the floor.
No. I spilled half my drink on this guy’s foot. FML. We both looked down and back up at each other slowly. Me, with my jaw dropped.
“I am so sorry,” I said, and ran over to the bar to get a napkin for him.
I always find my drinking nights to be a slippery slope. I’m a complete light weight, so after one Malibu Bay Breeze (the only drink I can taste without gagging) I’m tipsy. After two, I get that glazed over, out-of-it stare, which goes perfectly with my way-too-big smile.
When my best friend Kerry wants to take a picture, she’ll sometimes look at me and say, “Oh no, you’re smiling too big. You’re drunk before the pictures?!”
When I’m around potential future husbands in bars, I am always aware that the difference of one drink could make me go from fun and silly to that girl being carried out. And, trust me, you never want to be thatContinue reading →