Friday was about as classy as you’d expect.
That is, I made a complete and total donkey out of myself.
Yes, I held up my offer letter in the bar and boogied in my seat. I sang, "We Are the Champions." I chucked half a glass of Malbec onto my lap, and wasn’t too worried, because, after all, red is my favorite color. I woke up with my makeup still on, and my eyeliner had migrated to my earlobes.
So, basically, I did all sorts of other immature and ridiculous things, which I hardly remember and someone better not tattle on me for.
But, sadly, the most embarrassing thing I did happened after I was already home.
I tried to do the responsible thing, as in, text Jamie to say that I’d gotten home safely. However, “Home safe. Good night!” came out as:
“Aw. Thx will b rey to crask ourpxeo.”
At this point, Jamie probably thought I’d been sold out by my cabbie and kidnapped by a gang of hand-stealing bandits, and I was tapping out a distress signal with my elbows.
Naturally, he texted back to see if I was OK. Of course I was completely and totally fine, and safe and snug in my bed (nevermind that I was, uh, still in my clothes...though, unlike a certain someone, I at least removed my coat). Which is why I responded with,
“Omg, coppl!c.tnn’”
So, at this point, the gang of bandits had sawed off my elbows, and I was sending distress signals with my nose. Or, I’d sat on the keyboard and allowed my hindquarters to type for me. Who knows?
Either way, I had to call and slurrily and sleepily report that I was, in fact, home, and had arrived in one piece. I wasn’t, however, safe from a hangover so remarkable in its scope and intensity that I was in awe of it myself.
That is, I made a complete and total donkey out of myself.
Yes, I held up my offer letter in the bar and boogied in my seat. I sang, "We Are the Champions." I chucked half a glass of Malbec onto my lap, and wasn’t too worried, because, after all, red is my favorite color. I woke up with my makeup still on, and my eyeliner had migrated to my earlobes.
So, basically, I did all sorts of other immature and ridiculous things, which I hardly remember and someone better not tattle on me for.
But, sadly, the most embarrassing thing I did happened after I was already home.
I tried to do the responsible thing, as in, text Jamie to say that I’d gotten home safely. However, “Home safe. Good night!” came out as:
“Aw. Thx will b rey to crask ourpxeo.”
At this point, Jamie probably thought I’d been sold out by my cabbie and kidnapped by a gang of hand-stealing bandits, and I was tapping out a distress signal with my elbows.
Naturally, he texted back to see if I was OK. Of course I was completely and totally fine, and safe and snug in my bed (nevermind that I was, uh, still in my clothes...though, unlike a certain someone, I at least removed my coat). Which is why I responded with,
“Omg, coppl!c.tnn’”
So, at this point, the gang of bandits had sawed off my elbows, and I was sending distress signals with my nose. Or, I’d sat on the keyboard and allowed my hindquarters to type for me. Who knows?
Either way, I had to call and slurrily and sleepily report that I was, in fact, home, and had arrived in one piece. I wasn’t, however, safe from a hangover so remarkable in its scope and intensity that I was in awe of it myself.
Happy Monday, everybody.
15 comments:
I am pretty good at deciphering drunk texts but I truly have no idea what you were even trying to say here.
Lem - I think the first one attempted to say, in response to a Did-You-Get-Home message, "Aw. Thanks for your concern, good sir, I am home safely and will be ready to crash soon. Kindest regards, Shannon." The second, I believe, was an abbreviated version of, "Now, kind sir, I would just like to remind you that a woman of my station has a dreadful time and finds texting very complicated when she is other than sober."
This is precisely why we can't have nice things... IN MAH TRUK!
Hammer - I was in your truck? Crap.
Hahaha, see I think it wasn't a good time unless you begin texting like a drunken amputee.
Evidence suggests this to be the case. You have a very distinctive vomit dispersal pattern - sort of like a fingerprint.
All I got from this was "I had a banner night on Friday." Le awesome.
Pumpernickel - We are TOTALLY starting a band called The Drunken Amputees.
Hammer - It couldn't have been me, then, as I never throw up. So it must have been one of the dozen Doppel-Shannons who roam DC.
LiLu - I did. Or, at least, I believe I did. Saturday morning? Not so banner.
Congratulations on the new permanence of your gig. Very happy that you celebrated in, ahem, style.
Refugee - I was very stylish. In my own trainwreck sort of way. Well, my hair still looked terrific when I woke up.
I was afraid that the cab driver had taken you to Anacostia to steal a kidney or possibly a liver. Not that they would have done him any good after that night...
Perhaps we should set up a couple of pre-typed text messages. Then you could just hit a button and a perfectly typed text would go out to one and all.
Still, very funny combinations of letters you had there.
Jamie - I was concerned he might sell me for my gloriously purple teeth. I cannot believe you let me walk around like that --- next time, we're inviting a girl along so somebody will warn me!
Foggy - I have premade texts. They all say, "Go away, I'm hungover."
Omg, coppl!c.tnn
Definitely.
Lacochran - I find the first text funnier, actually, because I was attempting to be somewhat intelligent. Like earlier in the evening, when I spilled wine on myself and slowly and delicately mopped it up. I may have even stuck my pinky out while doing so.
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