How was my weekend? Well let's see. You want the full version or the parts I remember? With that being said, I'd say the weekend was a little too good. Went to an amazing party with some girlfriends. The bad news is how good the party was. Great music, attractive crowd, wonderful vibe. It was one of those nights.
My girls and I were like..
There was a somewhat attractive guy who asked me if he could "take care of me for the night."
What exactly does that entail?
We nicknamed him "Mr. Drinks" because that's what it entailed. It was as if he needed to get rid of money, because he bought countless women drinks at this soiree. Not only A DRINK, but for those who were still parched, he replenished their supplies unflinchingly. He was super-friendly. He smiled all night and never tried to get in my pants. No seriously.
All that was missing was a top hat. He was a true gentleman.
I danced, I laughed, I swayed and most important, I SLAYED. My new hot pink lipstick was a hit.
Mr. Drinks made mention all night of how much of a lady I was. "Elegant" he called me.
I wonder if he would still think so after reading a few entries of this blog..
After the whirlwind of fun, a friend Ubered us a cab that took us home. Once I got there I don't think I fell asleep. It felt more like sleep fell into me. I woke up to find a container of half-eaten mashed potatoes on the stove. How the hell did that get there? I felt like I must've slept-walk or something. My friend informed me that I'd bought them before going into my house, and from the greasy, ghetto chicken spot no less :/. It was news to me because I remembered none of it. Also in my kitchen was the bright green, fake-grass welcome mat that belongs to my new neighbor. That I remembered. In my highly drunken state, apparently I um..
Stole it.
I was completely on auto-pilot, almost as if I was a different person.
A zombie.
I don't like being that intoxicated. I mean, what's the nutritional value of a drink anyway? My memory has always been impeccable. The fact that I can't remember things because of my drunkeness.. we're talking about my cerebellum here! Furthermore, the recovery period necessary the morning after is so unpleasant. It's all fun and games until someone steals a rug.
When I looked in the mirror after waking up, I think I understood the term "shit-faced" better than I ever had. I looked tired. Groggy. Haggard. And that hot pink lipstick was still very much hot pink. All other make-up had been washed off but not that pink. It was determined to stay. It took most of the day to fully get it off my lips.
That's not hot.
One night.
Five drinks.
One very generous alcoholic beverage benefactor.
And an extremely tired, lethargic, hungover ME.
I would much rather vodka became more of a memory, than a hobby.
Though my drink of choice is honey whiskey..
But still.
The moral of the story is,
Sobriety awaits!
#womentakedrinks
#drunkinanythingbutlove
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