Vodka Strikes AGAIN!

The amount of class I effortlessly produce while under the influence is astonishing. Really, if there was an award for classy behaviour while drinking I would win it, even if Snooki and Charlie Sheen were my competition, well maybe not but it would be close.

While my efforts for beer Olympics came up short I did find myself on a road trip with Dana and two guys from work after a short date with awkward man. Yep you read that right, in my efforts to avoid all feelings I have for Melvin I distracted myself with awkward man and when that failed I took my ass on a road trip in a city an hour away so I knew I couldn’t make it back to his house at 3 in the morning and blabber my mouth off again. One would think that would solve all my problems, correct? No. It didn’t.

I drank all the way up there so by the time we got there I had a good buzz going; it was in the car ride up that a co-worker decided it would be a good time to discuss why I never agree to let him take me out...like on a date. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to men and dating but I know that co-workers are off limits. Co-workers who like to drink more than I do...even more so off limits. Let me just be clear that this man also knows all about my date with awkward man and that I have a slight crush on Melvin, where does he think I am going to fit him into my schedule? I barely have time to fit bob into my schedule lately.

When we arrived we made the decision to head down to a pub. This is where I went from cutely buzzed to crazy mode; I managed to get kicked out of a bar, do far too many free shots, dance barefoot (yep...I was that girl), get into fight with a guy then run away screaming “don’t stab me,” if that doesn’t show the state I was when 3 in the morning came around than you’ve never drank with me and shame on you. Dana and I made it our mission to get a cab so we left our group of friends and searched for a cab, but Dana and I are like goldfish, but instead of shiny things distracting us, boys do. In our search for a cab we made friends and they were heading to an afterhours club, I like to dance, I’ve yet to go to an afterhour’s club, one was cute and one had an Australian accent, I don’t see the downfall here; we can’t find our group so we go. Bad choice, after hours clubs are scary, not fun and me trying to convince the bouncer that paying $23 to get into such a place is ridiculous only made him mad and didn’t convince him that my boobs don’t pay cover charge to a shitty after hours club. We stayed long enough to pay $7 for one fucking water (that is insane, I don’t care where this water comes from $7 is far too much to pay for water) and we drag our asses back to where we are staying. Thank God Dana had the foresight to write the address of the place we were staying on her arm.

But it’s an good 45 minute car ride, so I pick up my phone and see a text from Melvin, I give a short, moody answer back and he is calling me within minutes. HA! It’s 3 in the morning, I am in Edmonton, good try buddy, I took precautions against this. At least I thought I did, me being in Edmonton was suppose to stop me from getting drunk and spilling my guts, it was suppose to stop me from being stupid, but it didn’t (shocking, I know). So instead I ramble on about how I am on a one way street of emotions (actual words that I said out loud... to him) and I’m sick of it. Who says that?!?! One way street of emotions?! I sound like I am the female Ron Burgundy, slightly more emotional and crazy though. Eventually my phone died and we ended back at the apartment we were staying at. But not before he reassures me that the feelings are mutual and he's doesn't want me to feel this way. Now he was drunk, so I'd like to believe it, but at this point I am not making the effort, the balls in his court.

I woke up in the morning with the horror that I slept in the same bed as co-worker who said he wanted to date me (no, nothing happened, I was fully clothed), I had splitting head ache and the desire to vomit everywhere, and I did, all the way home, in plastic bags, in the McDonald’s drive through, at red lights while my head hung out the window and Dana peeing her pants laughing while the lady who looked like she was on her way to church judged me. I give hot mess a whole new meaning.

These drunken conversations where I declare all my suppressed feelings for Melvin needs to stop though. There are only so many times I can say “damn that Vodka called you again last night, I’m really going to have to talk to her about drunk dialling you.”