Saturday, October 10, 2009
There Will Be Snickers
If you're anything like me, you can gage how drunk you were the night before by what is laying beside you in bed the next morning. And no, we're not talking a bisexual situation here (this time). We're talking food my friends, food.
My people tell me that once I am thoroughly drunk and I start demanding food, we have a ten minute countdown before I am face down, passed out asleep. Obviously, this time line does not always allow the proper amount of time to eat the food before I am asleep which results in evidence on my pillow. And as a horrific side note, this ordeal has no exceptions - not concerts, clubs, beaches, football games, or sobriety check points. My drunk waits for no one.
It has gotten progressively worse/impressive over time and all the local fast food chains know me by name. But what do you do when you're wasted and you can't drive yourself (and no one else will either) to a combination Pizza Hut/ KFC, you ask? You either plan ahead or cook yourself.
I have woken up next to half cooked meat, messy chicken nachos, a variety of Lean Cuisines, frozen pizza (literally), blocks of cheese (with gnaw marks in them) and a very elaborate plate of spaghetti. As you can imagine, the bigger the plate, the drunker I was. Usually, the plates like spaghetti would be partnered with a stolen street sign leaning against my door and the sinking feeling that I may have committed a few felonies the night before.
No delicacy I could convince my roommates to cook me could ever compare to the morning I awoke next to a king sized Snickers bar. I woke up at about 8 am and rolled over to discover my lover - nay, my soulmate - for the night. Only a bite was taken out of it and I was glad to be able to enjoy it's chocolatey goodness with at least partial sobriety.
"Well, hello there sir. I didn't catch your name... Mr. Right you say?" I cooed at the bar. A wide grin and a few chomps in, I passed out again, chin full of chocolate covered drool. Hours later, about noon, I woke up startled. Had I fallen back asleep and so rudely ignored my new house guest?
With a sigh, I turned to face the Snickers. Although it was now halfway gone, I began to chew excitedly again, marveling at the peanuts and caramel.
I should really wake up. I have things to do and people to see... I thought as I drifted back into slumber, letting the bar's tranquility take over.
Waking up the third time that day, at about 2 pm, I realized that I seriously needed to get the fuck out of bed. But there he was, just staring at me, only a few bites left.
Why are you so good to me...? I wondered as I finished the bar. I dragged myself out of bed and stretched. It was one of the best nights of sleep/ one night stands I have ever had.
As time has passed, I have realized a few things: I can't stand people that drive slow in the left lane (it's rude and annoying and I don't care if you're old), I think asparagus taste like puke, and while there may not ever be boyfriends or husbands to be around when I'm drunk, by God there will be Snickers.