walk of shame.
May 2, 2013 § Leave a comment
I wake up at precisely 7:30am after passing out in my bed only five hours earlier. I feel like crap. No, seriously. My mouth is dry and my breath tastes like stale garlic bread and spiced rum. My stomach feels sick. I book it into the bathroom so I can spill all of its contents. I wipe my face clean, and I stare at myself in the mirror. Eyeliner smudged, mascara everywhere, dry lips, disheveled hair. In short, I’m a hot mess. I’ve been called a lot of things, but I’ve never been called a hot mess.
Last night was the first night I’d been drunk since New Year’s, I think. I didn’t want to go. I always get this sick sort of feeling right before I go out and drink… a lot. I always feel like crap before the bar and I always feel like crap after the bar. It’s just one of those things that will always hold true — a fact, a law of science, an axiom. My best friend decided to bail at the last minute and opted instead to go watch a movie with some other friends whom we hadn’t seen in a while. I was at a crossroads. There was this longing in me that wanted simply to go back to this group of friends and yet I promised I’d go to the bar with the other engineering students for a drink.
I think you know what I did last night.
I arrived at the dive bar at about 8:30 after listening to multiple drunk voicemails on the way. Most people had been there for two hours already. My blonde friend who looks extremely out of place in the engineering faculty was already slurring her words. I don’t like beer, so I took some shots and downed a gin and tonic… and another one… and another one. I think I’d had about four by the time Greek Boy strutted in. Five when I tried to sit in his lap and was promptly pushed away. Six when I agreed to join the faculty marching band and go to North Dakota. I may have had a seventh, but at some point I decided to sober up somewhat so I could make my way home. And I did, with some difficulty.
The thing is, I don’t regret getting piss drunk with the friends I’ve made only this year. Sure, the hot mess in the mirror has a killer hangover and poor hygiene at the moment, but I don’t regret that at all. I went because I didn’t meet too many people throughout the year. I didn’t meet too many people in the last year because I was too busy either being completely scared of everybody or inexplicably angry at the world. In all my personal angst, I forgot that these were the people who were going through the exact same hell as me — challenging midterms and horrendous finals and complicated equations to memorize and all that. I wanted more than anything to have someone to relate to, someone to tell me that it’s okay. And if it happens over drinks, then so be it.
The last thing I remember is falling asleep to ‘good night’ texts from people I don’t remember.