wine night started with an air of sophistication. i was wearing womanly shoes that click-clacked across my kitchen floor. i was holding a wine glass. i was sampling cheese.
my adult friends were talking about pregnancy and i was nodding, tucking my hair behind my ear, sipping, nodding some more. i alternated wine and water, in a vain attempt to keep my inner peace. but if someone said the word "placenta" right now i'm probably giggle. i am 12.
around midnight, one of my friends was struggling to sit upright on the couch. she slouched on the futon, sipping water out of a wine glass. she'd nod off for a minute, then wake up and say "i hate you bitches." this went on for awhile. sip. snooze. "bitches!" sip. snooze. "bitches!"
things ramped up around 2 a.m. i had begun excluding the water portion of my diet and i was officially a drooling mess of blue teeth and vulgarity, screaming they lyrics to journey classics.
then the super trooper called. it was 10 a.m. he wanted to know how the party went. every 5 minutes, my battery would die. i'd call him back and talk loudly and repeat myself. finally we decided to meet up for coffee.
bear in mind i don't know the super trooper well. he is a friend of a friend and a fairly fun guy. we drank coffee and went back to his house so that he could stain his house and i could play with his dog. he gave me a tour. i sat down on a stool. i still felt out of sorts. i hadn't slept well. dogs barking downstairs. i hit the wall.
"dude," i told him. "i'm so tired."
he pointed me down the hall to his guest room, where i flopped facedown on the comforter. have i mentioned that i don't really know this guy?
he went outside and stained his house, came in and woke me at an agreed upon time. i learned that i had drooled all over his guest pillows. i walked down the steps and said
"hey. next time you can nap at my place."
