Fuck My Liver

It’s Friday night and my roommate is out of town.  It seems like a good night to make sure the apartment is clean and the bed is made.  The guys come over for the usual pregame routine.  We drink for a couple of hours, then call a cab.  Unfortunately, this is one of the busier nights to be out and a cab takes absolutely forever.  This just provides us more time to imbibe more alcohol.  Around 11:30pm, the cab arrives and we are on our way.

We hop around to a few bars and nothing exciting is happening. We even step up our intake and begin doing rounds of shots.  We get way too fucked up, but figure that it’s okay since we got out so late.  Finally, 2:00am rolls around and the bar closes.  In our inebriated state, we decide that after-hours would be a good idea.  By the way, this is never a good idea.  We order overpriced drinks and stumble around a bit.  Being unable to stand much longer, we head out of the bar and hail a cab to take us home.  All in all, this was a fairly uneventful evening that you would usually have on a Friday night.

It’s about 2:45am and I decide that I can’t let my empty apartment go to waste.  I get on the phone and start the drunk booty-texting.  I throw out about five baited lines before I get a tug.  One girl is at an after-hours club and tells me that she’ll let me know when she’s about to leave.  Score.  We get back to our place and and the guys want to continue drinking.  I tell them that I’m tired and going to bed without telling them of my aspirations to hook up instead.

Once back, I anxiously wait for the text.  Sure enough, about ten minutes later she texts me to see if I’m still up.  I tell her that I am.  She then explains that she thinks she’s just going to head home because she’s tired.  I couldn’t let this be the outcome since I stopped trying the booty-texts once this girl answered me.  I told her that I would make it worth her while.  We text back and forth for about five minutes about how I would make it worth her while, but what I also expected in return.  Let’s just say that it was getting steamy.  A few minutes later, she’s convinced to come over.  She tells me that she will be over in about twenty minutes and that I better not fall asleep.  About ten minutes later, she texts me to test me: “You still awake?”  I respond, “Of course.”  “Okay, I’ll be there in 10-15,” she tells me.

You can guess what happened next.  I’m sitting on my bed texting and ridiculously hammered.  I mean, the pillow just looked too comfortable not to lie down.  Sure enough, I pass out.  I wake up in the morning with a splitting headache, a few missed calls, and some texts:

“Be there in 5.  Is your ass still up?”

“I’m here.  Come answer the door.”

“What the hell?”

I apologized once I read them, but heard nothing back.  I even had the balls to try the drunk booty-text on the same girl a couple of weeks later.  Big surprise, no response.  Fuck my liver.

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