Gone in 60 seconds…


…and by “Gone” I mean wasted.

This recount of my most embarrassing moment is a combination of fractured, alcohol-soaked memories and bits and pieces as told by a couple of my former colleagues.

This happened 2 years ago. A girl at the office was throwing a Christmas party at her place and had invited a bunch of us to come including my boyfriend and I. Thing is, I had broken up with my boyfriend of almost 2 years just that past month (over some stupid shit as mentioned in a previous blog post). I had sufficiently made him regret it by showing up at the office Christmas party that same week looking like Hot Shit so I assure you, there were no hard feelings (for me, anyway). However, it was still taking our co-workers a considerable amount of time to get it through their heads that we were BROKEN UP. That being said, in attending this soiree I definitely felt like I had something to prove. I wasn’t *Derek’s girl anymore. I was Me, plain and simple.

It was BYOB and back then I had a strong taste for Smirnoff Ice. Unfortunately, since I had to work late that day, all liquor stores were closed by the time I was ready to leave so without thinking, I opted for a much cheaper alternative at the nearest corner store.

FATAL ERROR NUMERO UNO.

To my chagrin, I was one of the first people there. I also wasn’t particularly close to anyone either; they were all mostly friends of Derek and I felt like I had to keep up the appearance of being happy and care-free after my break-up. Party at your place? Sure, why not? We’re friends right? Right?! Needless to say, my social anxiety was in overdrive.

Pretty soon, the host had initiated some type of word-associated board game. In between turns, I took the opportunity to swig back my first bottle as fast and as inconspicuously as I could.

A few facts;

i. I weigh about the same as a fruit fly. Consequently, my tolerance for alcohol is next to zero.

ii. Alcohol purchased at a corner store has been found to contain the extremely efficient and mind-bending drug called Abnormally Shitfaced.

iii. Even normal alcohol causes me to experience hightened levels of drunkeness at a speed that most people cannot even compute.

The last thing I can tell you that I personally remember is that I swear I barely even got through one bottle…

List of things I did according to my ex, his friends and former colleagues;

1. Immediately began to throw myself at the biggest, burliest dude there. And by that I mean I literally threw myself on to his lap and viciously tried to make-out with him. My ex was sitting right next to us. This was on a tiny, cramped, 2-seat sofa.

2. Thought it would be HILAR to try to tickle someone’s balls (albeit, through his jeans) with my toes. It was not.

3. Cornered my friend’s cousin after he rejected my advances by saying I couldn’t “handle” him and insisted he let me proceed in the VERY SCIENTIFIC EXPERIMENT of grabbing his junk so that I may assess this for myself.

4. Just in case nobody was aware, felt it was necessary to proclaim that nobody who wanted to get in my pants could get in my pants because the fact is, only I can fit in my pants. *Insert maniacal laughter*

5. Enlisted the help of 3 girls to help me try to remember how to throw up, after which I would magically sober up. Obviously.

6. Passed out cold on the couch before being woken up and taken home by my ex who everyone had decided since Minute One was responsible for my well-being. Yeah, mission to reinstate position as Independent, Single Woman – Failed.

7. Erm, slept with my ex and sobbed hysterically the whole time.

List of things I did according to the host of the party;

1. Nothing, as I was perfectly fine and pleasant the entire night and did not stand out, at least to her knowledge, at all.

LIES.

*      *      *

There you have it. My most embarrassing moment. It was also my greatest lesson learned. It suffices to say I care a lot less about what people think about me and don’t use alcohol as a form of self-medication anymore. To this day I’m not entirely sure what in the everlasting fuck caused me to act so completely out of character that night but I’m just glad this didn’t happen much later in life and in waaayyy less forgivable circumstances.

 Remember kids, alcohol and self-doubt don’t mix!

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