On a recent Friday night I decided to go out galavanting in Burlington. Duh. As always, I had a lot of fun. I’m a little girl in a big world.
So I got back to the room that night and climbed into bed, presumably with a bar of organic dark chocolate. The last thing I remember is pretending to be asleep while KP talked to Shasha.
Early the next morning I wake up to pee. I notice that I’m sweating and look down and realize it’s probably because I’m still wearing my black velvet dress. I look at my phone to check the time and see that I have 4 text messages and several missed calls from Neil inquiring about where I was, etc. I frantically text him to tell him that I just passed out prematurely. When I finally make it to the bathroom I look in the mirror, bleary eyed and still a little cracked out from the night before. But I see smudges of brown ALL OVER my body. Jesus H. Christ, did I roll around in the mud? What in the WORLD is going on? But needless to say I wasn’t wearing contacts and I didn’t trust my vision at all. So I shuffle back to my room, chug a gigantic cup of water, and throw my blanket back, ready to climb in my bed. And that’s when I see it.
A huge, gooey brown spot.
Right in the middle of my bed. DID I TAKE A SHIT IN MY BED? HOW DRUNK WAS I? I panicked for about 17 seconds before I saw the Dark Chocolate Velvet wrapper on the floor. No big deal I just fell asleep spooning a chocolate bar. My life may or may night be a joke. So what’s a girl to do at 6 in the morning with melted chocolate in her bed? Solution: ignore it til the morning. Back to sleep I went.
Fast forward a few hours and I’m up again, this time at a more appropriate hour. I remembered the chocolate and immediately BBMed our in-house group (for those of you less technologically savvy/iPhone users I sent the same message to the 15 people I live with) telling them there was something CRUCIAL that they had to come see in my room. Obviously I was going to pretend I shat the bed.
In they came, one-by-one and in small groups. And this is what each one of them saw:
(Yes, my sheets are from target). I watched as each of them looked at the brown spot in sheer terror and disgust. Literal speechlessness. Before their brains could figure out what to say I CRACKED UP and shrieked “IT’S CHOCOLATE! I FELL ASLEEP WITH CHOCOLATE IN MY BED! HEHEHEHEHEHEHHE”
Their reactions varied from desperate laughter to confusion to “I seriously thought it was shit and it wasn’t going to be funny if it was.” Teh heh.
As soon as I got my hungover ass together, washed the chocolate stains off my body, and put my bedding in the washing machine, I realized that we had pumpkin picking or some other bizarre sorority sisterhood event to attend. Nothing blocks a perfectly good Saturday like a sisterhood event where you have to pretend you want to get to know your sisters. I would know because I used to plan most of them. And this one was no different. Everyone was hungover, toting large iced coffees, sunglasses, and advil. We went pumpkin picking and when we were done I realized that there was dirt all over the bottom of my car from everyone’s DAMN pumpkins (naturally I didn’t get one because I KNEW they’d be dirty). Someone even left their pumpkin in my car!! So Salami and I decided to go off in search of a car wash. What a goddamn mistake.
We finally locate “Seaway Carwash” and I drive up to where the young, male attendant was standing. The conversation went as follows:
Sinds: Do you do detailing here?
Man: No, not here.
Sinds: Isn’t detailing where you clean the inside of the car?
Sinds: Well the giant sign behind you says you do detailing.
Man: Yeah, but it’s by appointment only.
Sinds: Okay, can I make a appointment?
Man: Yes, for when?
Sinds: Can I make it for right now? (Bats eyelashes a little)
Man: Ummm, nooo. (Clearly not having it, dick)
Sinds: Okay BYE.
Salami is DYING in the passenger seat next to me as I drive over to the self-vaccuum. This will have to do. The sign says it costs $1.00 for five minutes of vaccuuming. I look in my wallet. 20s only. It’s fine, I can do it. I’m still optimistic. So we walk over to the “change machine.” I put my 20 into the machine and freeze as I hear the obnoxious clanging of COINS drop out. “FUCK IT’S GIVING ME FUCKING CHANGE FOR A 20 NOOOOOOOOOO.” But wait. Those aren’t quarters–they’re GOLD?! “FUCK IT’S GIVING ME DOLLAR COINS LIKE THEY DO AT THE TRAIN STATION AND EVEN THE TAXIS IN NEW YORK DON’T ACCEPT DOLLAR COINS FUCKKKKKK.” But wait. They’re not even dollar coins. Want to know what they were? TOKENS. Tokens that can only be used at the Seaway Carwash self-vaccuum. 20 dollars worh of T-O-K-E-N-S. Are you MOTHERFUCKING serious??????????
My life is a joke.