Three Cosmos and a Forkful of Mac and Cheese - Part 2

The party was great. It was just what I needed. I identified potential friend material, drank lots, relaxed, danced to killer hip hop. (Aside: it saddens me that I don’t know any lyrics to hip hop songs anymore. I am an old lady!) Couldn’t have asked for a better night. I am madly in love with New York City today.

We got to the party at 5:30, and by 10:00 I was sort of like “Wow, I’ve been here a long time.” People were leaving, people were getting sloppy, and I was actually getting tired. Curse these 9 – 5:30 hours!!!

I located my friend D, because there was talk of heading out to Williamsburg for a show afterwards, and I was like “Dude, wanna head out?” and he’s like “Wanna go to that show?” and I’m like “Sure.”

So we’re on our way out, but, of course, “Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough” was playing so I had to dance to it. And then another song I liked. Then I was drinking more cosmo and having that conversation with J and lost D. I was semi-irritated about it, but only semi, because I sort of just wanted to go to bed. So I said “Word” to J and walked upstairs out of the bar where I found D.

D was basically holding R up. R was TRASHED. Obliterated. Ridiculous ridiculous insane level drunk. Beyond even college-level. Running out into traffic drunk. Falling on the street drunk. Falling over tables in the bar and nearly lighting himself on fire drunk. Taking a nap on the street drunk. Unable to hold himself up drunk. Huggy drunk. “I lufff that you werrrrrkkkkkk here….. yerrrrrr awshummmm……” drunk. I really know how to pick em.

Apparently HR had called “a car” to come and get him, and D was going to take him back to his place. I offered to join him, because the car would make many stops, so why not? Plus, I felt bad for D and figured he could use a backup to do things like search for keys while he basically carried R from place to place.

The Lincoln eventually appeared. It was weird. It was like having a limo driver, and we were the pimped out wasted hip hop stars in the back. D knew the block R lived on but not exactly where. The whole ride to R’s apartment R was like “I’m so f-ing DRNNNNKKKKKKKKKK….. whrssss my bedttt…… I just want to shleeeeppp…. Whass…. Wherrr……” Etc.

We’re like “Dude, where do you live?” Or course he didn’t know. He basically flies out of the car and is, like, flinging his body all over the street and onto people. I can’t even explain this – you know what I mean, though. Like when you’re drunk and the earth will shift and you’re unprepared. Like he took a light step and violently ran four steps in the direction opposite the original step and crashed into a brick wall. And then after crashing into the wall, recoiled and crashed into some people. And all the while D is trying to pull him up. Awshummmmm…..

He told us the number of his building, but it wasn’t actually his building. Finally he located the right one, but didn’t remember what number unit he was. Then he remembered he lived on the fourth floor, but D and I were too drunk to count and just had no idea what was going on. Luckily R was with it enough to identify his door. Then he couldn’t find the keys. Then I was like “Wait! That’s why I’m here!” so I had to go through all of his things to find the keys. Awkward. And then there were millions of them. And two locks on the door.

Yeah.

And then I spent the night worrying that R had drowned in his own vomit and that my new lab best friend was dead and it was all my fault.

But he is here today. Albeit in a very dysfunctional state. D and I are going to make R get us tickets to the newly added Pixies show to make up for this.

After the drop off, D came back to the loft to check out the infamous big white building. He was very jealous and rode one of Roommate’s bikes around in the apartment after playing some piano. Then we went out with Canadian Jon for a drink, but neither of us drank because, well, we really didn’t need to anymore.

And now I am here.

The commute this morning was great! because there was nothing to hold on to and I was hungover and it was really. fun. trying to balance myself. It was one of those weird instances where the train is not crowded but for whatever reason people suck and don’t let short people have access to any of the bars, so I couldn’t even support myself in the mass of bodies.

Now I need lunch. And some advils. Advils are awshummmmm.