Last Friday night

Yesterday was the third Saturday in a row that I didn’t do anything. I was sooo tired and hungover from Friday night.

I had no plans to go out on Friday. I’d gone out on Thursday night with my work friends and hadn’t gotten to bed until 5 in the morning. Yes, 5. On Friday I went into work over an hour late! Not a good look, but I usually get to the office a half hour early, so whatever. After work I forced myself to go to the gym. By the time I was on my train ride home I was practically falling asleep.

But then Eve texted me to come hang out with her, her boyfriend, HBG, and this other girlfriend of theirs that I’ve met a few times before. They were celebrating the girl getting a new job and had gotten a room at The Standard hotel and were going to be hanging out in the Meatpacking district (which is an uber trendy NYC area).

I didn’t have any plans for the weekend until tonight, and the thought of spending the last Friday and Saturday of the summer inside my house catching up on Big Brother was not appealing. But I was so tired! I told Eve I would see what happened after I took a nap.

At around 9 one of my work besties, Alyssa, texted me to see what I was doing. I told her about Eve’s invite and asked if she wanted to come with. She did, so I finally dragged myself out of bed and started getting ready.

By the time I made it into the city and found parking it was around 11. I found Alyssa standing on the corner (literally – we were on the phone trying to find each other when I almost bumped into her), and then we went and met up with Eve. We pregamed in the hotel room (three shots of Patron) and then walked a block over to this club Ajna.

That night I nearly turned into a shit show. I had two vodka and club sodas while I was there, but I didn’t really feel that drunk until I was outside with everyone smoking a cigarette. You know how smoking amplifies your buzz? Well, all of the sudden I was spinning and I was certain that I was going to be sick. I went back inside and made a beeline for the bathroom.

But I didn’t get sick. After about 5 minutes and splashing some water on my face, I knew the worst of it was over. It was only like 2:30 at that point, but I knew it was time to go. I immediately found Alyssa, told her my problems, and she took charge just like any sober best friend should. We left without saying goodbye to the rest of them and walked about 5 blocks to my car…

…where we sat for at least a half hour, because of course I needed to sober up before I could drive home. At some point I realized that I hadn’t drank any water all night, so we walked over to this deli that we had passed on the walk to my car. By some miracle the food counter was still open, so in addition to the water I got a roast beef and cheese sandwich. Mmm.

And then the worst part of my night happened. While I was at the counter deciding which cookie I should have for dessert (what diet?), I stubbed my toe on the metal shelving that the cookies were on. There was a flash of intense pain but then I was fine. I grabbed a cookie, went over to the counter and paid for everything, and looked down at my feet and saw that I was standing in a puddle of blood. I had sliced open my big toe.

“I’m bleeding!” I said.

Everyone (Alyssa and the two guys working there, that is) started freaking out. Within one minute I had paper towels, rubbing alcohol, and a stack of bandaids in my hands. Then Alyssa was bandaging my foot. “Oh no Alyssa,” I said, “Not my salsa feet!” Honestly, all I could think about was the fact that I probably wouldn’t be able to go to salsa class this weekend.

We went back to my car, ate our sandwiches, and finally Alyssa decided I was sober and could drive home. I didn’t even look at my foot for the rest of the night. When I woke up the next morning, the bandage had fallen off and little bits of paper towel were stuck to my foot. The bottom of my foot was covered in dried blood, as was my shoe. I freaked out a little bit myself, but once it was cleaned up I saw that it wasn’t THAT bad.


So yeah, that was my Friday night. I spent Saturday in bed and on my couch. I had pretty bad stomach cramps and the worst headache ever, but I didn’t puke, so that was good. Tonight I’m going out for a friend’s birthday. I don’t plan to drink too much, so I should be able to keep it together better than I did on Friday. We’ll see.


About notchangingmyname

I'm a thirty-something, about-to-be-divorced, former blogger trying to navigate single life.
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6 Responses to Last Friday night

  1. Probably shouldn’t have been eating when I was reading the last bit of this post.

    The one thing I like to take from embarrassing drunken escapades is that someone’s going to get a good story out of it at least. Also thought it was hilarious that the only thing you could think about while your foot was covered in blood was how bummed out you’d be for missing salsa class.

    • My bad, maybe I should have put a warning at the top of the post!

      Haha I can’t even count how many times the words “well at least I got a good story out of it” have come out of my mouth. Way too many.

      (And I was right to be worried about salsa – I went to class yesterday and the cut opened up again! Ugh.)

  2. SillyG says:

    Ouch! That’s a good chunk of skin you ripped off there.

  3. Jeni Johnson says:

    Oweeee no peep toes flr awhile hun? Vodka creeps up one me and I’m a complete Jekyll!

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