The drunk

A number of things have happened over the last several weeks. I am hesitant to list them all here under the idea of cutting my losses and moving forward. But, they’re your losses, really – because I lived the moments. From time to time, I may reflect on the black hole existence of our relationship, but that bridge will be crossed when we come to it.

This weekend, our favorite gal, KJ, came for a visit. She’s nearly seven and a half months pregnant, but it didn’t stop us from having a good time because let’s face it, most of the time - and I’m not ashamed to admit this - I am the drunk one.

I’m the one buying shots and beers for everyone, running up my credit card bill to an exorbitant amount, because love and friendship can be bought.

I’m the one harassing guys way out of my league, showing them my breasts and saying things like, “My Dad was a former NFL player,” and “I’m a yoga instructor.” It’s rare when I am out with friends and sober but Friday and Saturday nights were such occurrences.

Unfortunately, Kelsey left before Sunday's Bears playoff game. All sober bets were off.

In hindsight, I should’ve taken a vacation day on Monday because even though I don’t really care about the Bears, I like to drink and a local team’s playoff game is as good of a reason as any. In fact, it’s better than most reasons I come up with like, picking up my clothes off the bathroom floor.

A friend and I headed down to a large sports bar around a solid 1.5 hours prior to kickoff. The place was packed. Like, I think I was either just raped or I’ve been standing on a small child packed. Lucky for us, I’m a bitch and rules are rules – so we were able to overtake some “saved” seats. (Before I proceed, I should mention that I have taken on the task of expanding our circle and by that, I mean meeting new people – the kind that don’t require a follow-up trip to the health clinic. And this was one such opportunity.)

I, of course, initiated the conversation with the males because what I lack in looks, I make up for in social skills. (Isn’t that what all fat chicks say?) We were having a great time. I was making a number of new friends with my charm, wit, and pleasantried when it happened. Sometime after the victory, I turned a corner in my drunkness and when I did, I smashed into a pile of “lonely drunk with a big ego acting inappropriately”. Nice play, asshole, – nice play.

All in all, though – a good weekend. I had a great time with KJ, kept my spending habits under control, added some new people to the roster of cool, and, had I not acted like a total asshole at the end of the evening, probably could’ve gotten a couple dates.

Now, if you’ll excuse me – it's lunchtime.