Sunday, January 20, 2008

Bloody Hell!

So, Friday was the end of a weird, long, exhausting week. Without going into too many details, I had a mini-meltdown Friday evening. I've been feeling kinda...not myself for a few weeks now. I can't quite put my finger on it. It's like, my energy is messed up. Not just my physical energy levels (I was asleep by 6:30 a few nights ago, and up til 4:00 this morning so go figure) but my ENERGY energy. Like right now, I feel...weird. Like I'm in a cloud or bubble or something. I'm starting a 4 day fast ASAP.Anyway, so back to Friday. I was headed to L.A. to a screening of La Vie en Rose with C and traffic was comical. I mean, it took me like 10 minutes to go a mile. I had about 25 more miles to go and about 40 minutes to get there so you do the math. Needless to say, I hopped off the freeway and headed back home. I stopped by my moms for a bit and ended up hanging out there for about 2 hrs watching Def Comedy Jam and hanging with her, boo-boo and his dad. The visit actually helped my mood. Anyway, I rushed home meet a girlfriend and we headed to one of our new fave watering holes. And water we did! The place was packed and there were 2 bartenders. Apparently all of the bartenders were fired like a week ago. This place is a trip. By the end of the night, the bartenders, bouncers, everyone is FAAAADED! Who knows what "office politics" caused the owner to fire all of his seasoned bartenders, but I digress. So, he hired this scallywag of a sea creature with no bartending experience (but she had quite a rack on her, so go figure.) I mean, come on chick! Spend a few hours on and brush up! She didn't know the ingredients of ANYTHING ('water with lemon? what's in that?') Ok, I'm exaggerating a little (moi?) but you get it. It made for an adventure every time we went to order a drink (because seasoned bartender was swamped, so we were forced to go to scallywag!) Scally, we'll call her, had to keep asking Seasoned "what's in a Purple Hooter?" "how do you make an Oatmeal Cookie" I mean, basic bar shit that you'd know just from hanging out in a bar. And by the looks of it, she's no stranger to bars if you catch my drift. So, we had a few shots, had a few laughs, talked quite a bit of shit per usual. We had this running joke that evening. Apparently quite a few people didn't check before stepping out. One girl had on a thin cotton halter top, an obscenely short denim skirt (like so short, if you drop something, fuck it. It's a loss.) and some little platform sandals that were made out of straw or wicker or something. So the joke was that Summer called and wants it's outfit back. So, my girlfriend and I were in the bathroom bantering back & forth and were keeping each other in stitches. "Hey, I just got off the phone with Summer. She said she wants her skirt back. She's sending Winter to pick it up." And others began joining in. Catty drunk bathroom banter. Good times, good times. It was effing hilarity though. I felt like we'd been there for a long time but in reality it was only about 2 1/2 hours. We headed home, I got dropped off, thanked my friend for a lovely evening and I ran my happy ass up the stairs. Struggled with the lock for a few seconds, got in, slammed the door (I think) and then...I felt like something jumped up and bit me. I mean, it was like FIRE no lie. And I look down at my finger and see this bullshit:


Are you kidding me right now? I mean COME ON dude. Who the hell snatches THEIR ENTIRE NAIL off closing a door?! Answer: ME, that's who. Ugh, alcohol + open wound = bloody mess. It hurt SO bad. I just laughed. (Is that shock?) I mean, actual laughter, like I was cracking up. It hurt so bad that I laughed?! I've cried from pain, felt faint from pain, puked from pain, but never laughed. Lord help this child...Anyway, I'm having to make special accommodations for my gimpy finger now. It's an important finger too. It's not like its a pinky (you don't even need to use your pinky when you drink tea!) This is the finger I use to give directions. I use this finger to dial the phone, to apply lip balm. I think it's probably my favorite finger. And now it's out of commission. Damnit...that's what I get for talking shit.

No comments:

Post a Comment