Nursing one of the most intense full body hangovers in my life, I barely survived work. Caught between the urge to vom and every muscle in my entire body sore and achy. I feel about 85 years old and handicapped.
I want to climb into bed and die for 12 hours.
However… my sister is in town and I have to somehow rally for sister date 3.
Jesus, Mary & Joseph, I don’t know if I can pull it off.
Run home after work, nurse a beer slowly in the hopes of keeping something down, while praying the pounding in my head will stop. Shaky tired and looking like death warmed over.
Makeup, and lots of it. Shiny red lips. Anything to disguise the suffering I’m enduring. I cannot believe I’m actually going to go through this again.
I see my Wild Ass sister so seldom that I’m not going to miss an opportunity to spend more time with her. I feel horrible, but I’d rather feel horrible with her than without.
Ouch though… I’m beginning to realize it’s for the best that we don’t all live in the same city.
I walk back in to meet them downtown and they look genuinely shocked to see me. Mr. Mahalo smiles.
M- You look hot, wayyyy better than you looked an hour ago.
J- Thanks, I still feel ghastly.
My sisters are heading to a sketch party to make an appearance and I just don’t have it in me. I go with one of them for a drink down the street- praying it will ease my suffering… but it simply makes me a sitting duck, with overly confident drunk boys swarming around me.
One in particular can’t seem to hear me say no. I tried being diplomatic.
J- You’re very nice, but I’m not interested.
D- Are you seeing someone?
J- Yeah, I am.
D- Where is he?
J- Out of town…
D- Then he deserves to have you stolen.
J- I only date men older than me, sorry.
D- What are you …. like 27?
I may not look 35, but come on. We know when you’re bullshitting us because you have unzipping on the brain. I just kept migrating away from him, and he kept coming back… like the fucking fleas on my little Tucker Max.
I’m trying to stay conscious and I’m praying the veins in my temples don’t burst… my entire soul hurts… and my patience is wearing thin. He sits down next to me and keeps touching me while I’m fielding his creeper hands and getting progressively more annoyed…. but he starts talking and it’s so fucking funny I can’t resist… I have to let him go on- purely to tell y’all about it. This guy is saying the craziest things I’ve ever heard, and I suffered through internet dating for a year. I looked up at the Vagina Hoarder and he air-typed to me- so I know he’s hearing this craziness too.
I have no choice but to name him Mr. Douche… because this is what holds all men back. Show some respect for fuck’s sake.
D- I make a mean breakfast.
blink, blink, blink.
D- I hate to be sentimental but can you imagine how happy our moms would be? They’re friends, they’d get to hang out all the time now and we could have beautiful babies.
J- Yeah I don’t think the man in my life would appreciate that. It’s not going to happen.
D- Do you know how many times I effed my girlfriend and pretended she was you?
J- Um. Eww. I never want to hear that- that gives me a complex wondering who’s done that with me. Not cool.
D- You can keep your clothes on. I just want to kiss you. I’ll make you breakfast even if you don’t want to have sex. But you will.
J- It’s not going to happen.
Apparently no makes men go apeshit because the guy to my left is starting in now.
#2- You’re crazy fuckin beautiful.
J- Uh…. thanks I guess?
#2- What are you drinking?
J- Water, I had too much fun last night.
#2- You know what you need? A protein drink.
Good lord… someone may potentially have children with this idiot at some point. I don’t know if I should be offended, horrified or just plain amused.
Mr. Douche is only amping up his crazy game.
D- I’ve lost 37 pounds and my dick is an inch longer, that means when I hit it, it’ll be an inch deeper.
I can’t honestly believe I’m hearing this but it’s so funny I have to let him go on. If he touches me one more time I’m going to snap.
D- Doing you would be like Christmas. Let’s celebrate Christmas early.
I swear on a stack of bibles I’m not making this shit up. It was so funny at a certain point that I just sat and laughed at him. WTF… I had my one standard line.
J- It’s never going to happen.
He hands me an ice cube.
D- If you’re going to say no, then you should put this in your pants to cool off.
I dropped it and must have looked as horrified as I felt because for the first time, he apologized.
Why is it that rejection motivates men to dig deeper? I hate to admit it but it does the same thing to women sometimes. This is priceless, but he wont stop touching me… which is when the darling bouncer comes over and tells him to beat it. Awww 🙂 What a guy. I’m so hung over I’m defenseless and it’s getting wonky.
D- Last chance gorgeous- I make great eggs.
J- I don’t eat eggs. Have a good night.
Oy… some boys should be collared, leashed and kenneled.