Meeting the cast of Mulan...

I was hovering the throne of pity, embarrassment, and too many gin and tonics with extra limes. How amazing the toilet seat was, my head not leaving the side. Thankfully I was at my house and I had just recently cleaned it the day before. My breath rancid, my cheeks covered with mascara. A picture of misery.

 The sad thing was I didn’t truly mean tot get belligerent. Rooms, neighbor and I were on our way to wal-mart on a Friday night, which is pretty lame to me, especially if you have it off. Only people with no life go there, still dressed in their pajamas. We all decided probably sub-consciously that were one of those people, and decided to go out. Get a few drinks. And that we did.

After a bit of talking, rooms and I decided to go inside to get a drink. Sitting at the bar this guy who reminded me of the teacher lady from Mulan, the one who has dark hair and make-up painted on and fails Mulan at the “lady” test? He didn’t look like that exactly but very similar features. Thankfully he had two other attractive friends. He came up to us and very un-soberly said, “Lemme buy you your drinks.” I thanked him nicely but declined. He came up again, lifting his eyebrows and said “Honey I can buy this bar twice.” Technically I could buy a couple rounds too, be broke after but, come on, really? He bought eight shots, two times. Chit chatted with the two guys and then it hit me.

 I felt it. My head starting to not comprehend the conversation. Nodding, laughing, not knowing a clue what they were talking about. Something sugar level that only needed a head nod needing my brain to be involved. Lines were getting blurred. I knew I should’ve stopped 2 shots ago. We had left our neighbor outside, which seemed forever ago. We stayed a bit longer and that's when I lost it.

You know when you close your eyes and your constantly on the Gravatron, spinning? Its better to keep your eyes open then to get on the ride of death? My poor toilet that only sees bare ass got to see my beautiful face puking my guts out. I know people may have had this experience more then once, or twice. Still drunk the next day, crawling to get an advil and water. But seriously I dated a guy in college that would do this nightly and it grossed me out that he had this kind of talent. Every night, passing out, getting up and doing it again and again. Nothing against that, but dang. They must have stomachs of steel, heads of fluff, and must  have loved the ride of spinning as a child. The feeling of wanting to die the next morning leaves me satisfied that I shouldn’t do it again. So I wont until next time when Mulan’s teacher asks to buy me a round or 2.