My company moved offices to a new location in downtown Boston and it has done nothing but awful things for both my liver and my wallet. For starters, it’s directly across the street from Nordstrom Rack and Kate Spade and I have a Marshall’s IN my building. I physically have to look at the seasonal window display every time I enter and not going in to buy the mint colored envelope clutch with the matching mary jane pumps can only be compared to the pain that is pulling out ones eyelids.
Oh, and there’s like a MILLION bars. Everywhere. And we drink a lot in the office. This one guy, has whiskey at his desk and I sometimes, maybe a lot, take swigs when I walk by. Which is 3-4 times a day. 5 on Friday. Whatever, anyways.
**Disclaimer: Friday was the first time I had an alcoholic beverage in WEEKS as I had been detoxing in preparation for the Boston Marathon – taking that into consideration, in addition to the fact that it takes days for your body to re-hydrate after a marathon, it’s no wonder why my weekend ended the way it did…
On Friday we usually have a beer or two in the office to celebrate the week and not getting fired or dying, and then people either head home or to the bar. I chose to head out for (what always turn out to be my famous last words) “one glass of wine”.
Well one glass of wine VERY quickly turned into me somehow weird getting black out and waking up with no pants on and a cheeseburger. AGAIN. This is what I remember/have been able to collect:
- I headed to a “nice” restaurant, that served pate. Who in the fuck eats pate? I clearly didn’t belong there, two glasses of wine later…bye
- I was talked into one more stop, for one more glass of wine and this is where shit got WEIRD
- I reached for my phone and had a million text messages and notifications. I was extremely confused but then realized that I had somehow magically been put into a pretend Facebook relationship with a childhood friend who is 1- maybe someone I’d date but like, I’d kind of want to be involved in that decision and 2- why? Whatever, I decided to deal with it in the morning
- I vaguely remember some skank in a tank top and Uggs (p.s. let’s pretend it’s an acceptable temperature to wear a tank top out, but with Uggs? Go home – you’re tacky) talking shit in the bathroom because my friend politely said “excuse me” when she tried to wash her hands. This is why I normally always carry hand sanitizer and honestly, get out of my fucking way before I cut you with the knife I ALWAYS carry because it matches the inner lining of my designer handbag and honestly you just never know when you’ll need help opening a box. Or a stalker
- I don’t remember how I got to the train from that last bar but I apparently somehow did…because the next thing I know I’m sitting on the red line throwing up in a shoe, holding a computer and listening to the Frozen soundtrack
- What?
- One thing leads to another and I’m waking up in my apartment with no pants, my shoes in the tub, I can’t find my car and I’m still in a Facebook relationship
- I ended the relationship, called a cab and went to the T station, praying my car was there, which it was, which was great
- I was STARVING. Probably because I threw up everything I had eaten in the last 36 hours but I just couldn’t, like could NOT, commit to either Burger King or McDonald’s so I said fuck it and decided to go to both
- I accidentally forgot to pay at Burger King, but it was their fault. They gave me the food before they asked for the money so honestly, like..I’m not sorry
- I ate everything
- Sunday morning I ran a 5k then drank a ton of beer
- I came home and watched a Lifetime movie on Anorexia while crushing beers and eating chips in what I think are my ex boyfriends sweatpants.
What’d you do?
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Twitter: Hippie - Insane Tony
