There was a birthday dinner party. Which sort of went on after dinner, and then on way after bedtime, and then wound up going on until most of us passed out. Some things were said, during, and after: “These aren’t my clothes. Whose clothes am I wearing? Where are MY clothes?” “We all agree you […]
There was a birthday dinner party. Which sort of went on after dinner, and then on way after bedtime, and then wound up going on until most of us passed out.
Some things were said, during, and after:
“These aren’t my clothes. Whose clothes am I wearing? Where are MY clothes?”
“We all agree you were the cutest drunk ever”
“Get the tequila! No glasses, we’re passin’ the jug.”
“You wanted to come home with us. You even asked permission.”
“Was I mean to you last night? I have to have been mean to someone.”
“That was very sweet of you. Also kind of opportunistic.”
“Take these back to the store, and tell then ‘We had five of us in the bed last night trying these and they didn’t get anyone off'”
“I’ve never been this hung over at someone else’s house before.”
“Whose idea was it to drink tequila?”
“Dad, there are two people asleep in the living room, and I can’t find the remote control.”
“Did you wash my hair?” “Yeah, and I also shaved you.”
“Damn, I forgot to take my birth control pills.”
“When did you get here?” “After you got drunk, but before you passed out.”
“I don’t remember any of it.”
Really, despite some spectacular hangovers, it was a very good party.
I am SO unbelievably jealous.
Damn! I must’ve missed my invitation!
How am I on this coast instead of that one? Life isn’t fair.
*giggle*
I still have fantasies about some of the things that happened at — and after — that party.