It's been awhile since I got drunk. Like, seriously drunk. Not so long ago, I quit bartending, started devoting myself to the Real Job, and suddenly found myself remarkably more sober. Not being in the direct path of every sort of available liquor is very conducive to sobriety. When you bartend, people do the whole "Girrrrl, you look like you need a SHOT!" and before you know it, there's tequila in your hands. The good tequila, not the Sauza they try to pass off as top shelf in burrito restaurants.
So yeah, my old friend A was in town for a brief vacation. Really, I knew before we began that it would be a Bad Night. She's that friend with whom we all go out knowing what's going to happen, but with general disregard for our own well-beings, we go anyway.
We started hitting it hard, doing the drink-talk-hey-lets-order-a-SHOT!-thing. At some point, the bar-pounding began. I might have loudly referenced my former bartending history once or twice as a way to claim my legitimacy at being annoyed that "There is almost NO bourbon in this drink!" We intermittently did tequila, and then some random doucheband came into the bar. It was weird, I was sitting there yelling nonsense at one of them, and then I looked to my right and A was grossly making out with the Creepy Bearded Guy from the doucheband. As you can see, it's Christmas for him:
I remember some jager. Or maybe I don't. Anyway, by the time I found myself sitting on the street next to my car, weeping on the phone to my sister in Houston about some random drunken shit, I think my liver was weeping as well.
So the next morning I wake up at 9:45, a full 45 minutes after I am supposed to report to work, race to the bathroom, only to find the following note tacked to the door: "DO NOT USE SINK. CLOGGED WITH VOMIT. PLEASE BUY DRAINO ON THE WAY HOME TODAY." Mystified, I enter the bathroom, and it is... clean. My roomate told me later that she awoke at 3 am, and peered into the bathroom, only to find me topless in the bathroom shouting "I'M SORRY JULIE!" She let me go to bed, but when she awoke to pee shortly thereafter, I had apparently vomitted all over the toilet, decided that I could not adequately complete this task using this receptacle, and left a trail to the sink, in which I finished.
So yeah, I threw up in the sink. And my roomate had to clean it up. I was considering getting a place by myself, but after this, I realize that I'm not fit to live alone.
