Two things disturb me. One is the embarrassing state that I was in this past Halloween and the other is how many images you get when you type "drunk pumpkin" into Google. You all can check out the Google images yourself, so let me tell you about my Halloween.
In hindsight, I should have known that the night was probably not going to end well considering how it started. I got a part time gig sampling wines at supermarkets and liquor stores, so I drove down during the day to do a wine sampling at one of the local supermarkets in DC. That lasted about three hours and it was pretty uneventful except for the random "urban" customer coming to my table and asking the two most annoying questions you can get at a wine tasting. Those two questions are, "Which one is sweet?" only to be toppled by the ever classy question of "Does it have liquor in it?". After I left the wine tasting, I asked the management what they would like for me to do with the open bottles, thinking they would take them home to their family or use them personally since they were already paid for. Their response was that I could just put them in the trash because they did not want them. By trash, I took that to mean they meant the trunk of my car, or boot depending on which country you are reading this from.
So when I left the supermarket, it went from raining to snowing. Just what you want when your costume involves wearing shorts. But that was hours from now. For now, all I wanted to do was hang out with my boyfriend and start on all these open bottles of wine we had. Oddly enough I wasn't that thirsty, probably cause the wine really wasn't that great, but moreso because I was starving and food was more important than liquid at this moment. We ordered take out, AKA take away and just chilled out for a few hours until it was time to go to the multiple house parties we had planned for the evening.
So the time was finally upon us to get ready to go out for the evening. One of Sean's friend arrived and dressed up as the Heisman trophy, complete with gold paint and football. The picture is there on the right, so I won't bother explaining our outfits, but FYI, the Heisman trophy also had a matching gold helmet that she wasn't wearing in that picture. Looking back on that picture, I can see I'm pretty plastered already, but it clearly doesn't hit me until later on in the night. And the reason you ask? I blame the witches brew! The witches brew was a concoction made by the host of the first party which is composed of kiwi, mint and vodka. Oddly enough, those first two ingredients easily hide the last one, to the point that you down the shit like it's Snapple. After about an hour or two at this party, we ventured to the next house party, which was only a few blocks away.
It is at this point that the night becomes blurry, but thank goodness for Sean unfortunately remembering most of the night. When we arrive at the next house party, I am so plastered that I sit down in the lobby of the apartment building and tell Sean, "We have to go" in my sexiest drunken slur. He happily agrees and we step outside trying to hail a cab because it's below freezing, wet and I'm wearing rugby boots. After multiple tries to acquire a cab, my boyfriend starts yelling out racial slurs at these foreigner cabbies who can barely speak English. I supposedly am very upset with my boyfriend's attitude, so I punch him in the face, so pathetically, that three people on the street see us and don't even bother making a comment. I didn't even leave a mark on his pretty face, I wish I could have said the same for my pretty face.
Rightfully so, Sean walks off in a tizzy for what I did and I do the same. It quickly hits him that I'm staying with him and we both have to go home. It quickly hits me that I don't know where the fuck I am and neither does Sean. I don't remember how I got home or what happened to the three hours in between me walking away and me finally getting home, but during that time, I do recall a few things:
1.) Trying to hail a cab and failing miserably, which turned out to be a good thing, since I had no money on me.
2.) Arguing with a police officer in what I believe was a 7-11 about why I was so drunk and he suggested I catch a cab and I said, "I would LOVE that!"
3.) Getting a call from Sean's friend since I had Sean's phone and left mine at his house for costume logistical reasons. And telling this friend that I was in Southeast DC, which would have been impossible since I was miles from there.
4.) Falling flat on my face while jogging on icy sidewalks in rugby boots.
5.) Meeting a nice man, who I think was named Joel who informed me that I was bleeding (from the fall)
6.) Finally making it home (perhaps thanks to Joel?) and finding my way into my boyfriend's apartment building.
7.) Knocking on his door and him not answering because he was asleep since I had been gone for hours.
8.) Passing out on the landing right in front of his door like a dog, but not before realizing just then that when I fell, I cracked my two front teeth.
And the next morning, having this picture taken of me. That picture says so much, so I will say no more for now. Until next time... TGG.
So when I left the supermarket, it went from raining to snowing. Just what you want when your costume involves wearing shorts. But that was hours from now. For now, all I wanted to do was hang out with my boyfriend and start on all these open bottles of wine we had. Oddly enough I wasn't that thirsty, probably cause the wine really wasn't that great, but moreso because I was starving and food was more important than liquid at this moment. We ordered take out, AKA take away and just chilled out for a few hours until it was time to go to the multiple house parties we had planned for the evening.
It is at this point that the night becomes blurry, but thank goodness for Sean unfortunately remembering most of the night. When we arrive at the next house party, I am so plastered that I sit down in the lobby of the apartment building and tell Sean, "We have to go" in my sexiest drunken slur. He happily agrees and we step outside trying to hail a cab because it's below freezing, wet and I'm wearing rugby boots. After multiple tries to acquire a cab, my boyfriend starts yelling out racial slurs at these foreigner cabbies who can barely speak English. I supposedly am very upset with my boyfriend's attitude, so I punch him in the face, so pathetically, that three people on the street see us and don't even bother making a comment. I didn't even leave a mark on his pretty face, I wish I could have said the same for my pretty face.
Rightfully so, Sean walks off in a tizzy for what I did and I do the same. It quickly hits him that I'm staying with him and we both have to go home. It quickly hits me that I don't know where the fuck I am and neither does Sean. I don't remember how I got home or what happened to the three hours in between me walking away and me finally getting home, but during that time, I do recall a few things:
1.) Trying to hail a cab and failing miserably, which turned out to be a good thing, since I had no money on me.
2.) Arguing with a police officer in what I believe was a 7-11 about why I was so drunk and he suggested I catch a cab and I said, "I would LOVE that!"
3.) Getting a call from Sean's friend since I had Sean's phone and left mine at his house for costume logistical reasons. And telling this friend that I was in Southeast DC, which would have been impossible since I was miles from there.
4.) Falling flat on my face while jogging on icy sidewalks in rugby boots.
5.) Meeting a nice man, who I think was named Joel who informed me that I was bleeding (from the fall)
6.) Finally making it home (perhaps thanks to Joel?) and finding my way into my boyfriend's apartment building.
7.) Knocking on his door and him not answering because he was asleep since I had been gone for hours.
8.) Passing out on the landing right in front of his door like a dog, but not before realizing just then that when I fell, I cracked my two front teeth.
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