Accidental Ambivalence

Friday Night

Thursday, I called my life boring. Friday, my life proved me wrong.

After over nine inches of frozen precipitation fell (snow and sleet over ice), I decided to spend my day cleaning and lounging around my apartment. A friend of Bradshaw’s was having a belated twenty-first birthday party that we’d been planning to go to, and a little bit of snow and ice certainly wasn’t going to stop us.

I had two drinks (tequila and orange juice) while I was getting ready, took a shot, and then mixed an extra strong drink in a bottle for transport. After putting on a pair of running shoes for walking in the snow, I put the bottle in the pink purse along with the red heels, pulled my gray pea coat over my jeans and black sweater, and headed out the front door.

My final destination was only about two blocks away, so I intended to walk. I had just stepped outside when Dread, who lives across the street, called and offered to walk with me. As we walked, he laughed at me walking tipsily through the ice and snow.

When we arrived it was still early, so there weren’t many people around. I drank most of my liquor very quickly while watching a rousing game of liquor pong.* I decided that I wanted to text message someone (a sure sign that I was rapidly approaching drunkenness) and suggested Project. Bradshaw threatened to steal my phone if I did, so I texted K instead. He didn’t respond, so we commenced talking trash about him while we drank. Before I could make myself sick, I gave my drink to Dread to hide, which he did gladly. I chatted with friends, autographed someone’s arm, and avoided a boy who was following me around. I eventually found my drink and finished it, watched two of my friends disappear in a bedroom together and both come out with scratch marks on their backs, and at one point took a shot of rum.

It was a fun evening, but nothing really remarkable happened. Since Dread was my big, scary escort, I left when he did, earning even more laughs for slipping on the ice while drunk than I did while tipsy. He walked me to my building, and not two minutes after I walked inside I realized I had a text message. K had finally responded. I wasn’t interested in texting back and forth—because I was too drunk to play coy—so I just called him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Lying on my bed being drunk.” Fuck subtlety, right?

“Well, you should come over.”

I scoffed. “Even if I did feel like digging my car out of the snow—which I don’t—I cannot drive. I am drunk.”

“I could come and get you,” he offered.

“Are you serious?”

We went back and forth for a bit, then I finally agreed.

Once we got to his apartment, he put in some movie and we both changed and laid down. We didn’t pay any attention to it, but get your mind out of the gutter—nothing happened. I talk a lot when I sober, but when I’m drunk I stop caring if it’s annoying or if I’m interrupting something. I talked through the entire movie.

I’ll be honest, I enjoy aggressive boys, or at least boys with the initiative to do what they want. K has no initiative. Nothing happened. We slept, we woke up, he brought me home on the surprisingly still-icy roads.

When I got home I had tangled hair, an extreme craving for a huge glass of water, and four new numbers on my phone—one of which I have no recollection of saving. I spent today napping and watching Gilmore Girls and movies on TV. No matter what the final outcome, it was still a hell of a night.

*Liquor pong is just like beer pong, but the cups are filled with mixed drinks instead of beer. While I’m sure it’s been played other places, this apartment is rather infamous for it.

Labels: alcohol, flirting

posted by nicalyse @ 10:09 PM