How do you politely exlpain to someone that you were blackout drunk?

“Hi! Are you a’s roommate?”

“Um, yeah. I’m b. We met last night? We rode home in the same car?”

“Oh yeah! Great! Well thanks for having me over.”

Where in that conversation are you supposed to say: “Ohhhhhhhh. yeah, about that. I vaguely remember you now that you’re saying this, but lesbereal. I was super blackout wasted.”

Or how are you supposed to feel about going to a party and getting hammered and running into some you just KNOW you know.

“Hey, I know you!”

“Ohhhh, hey. Yeah I know you too!”

“How did we meet?”

“Geeze, I dunno.”

“I think we were both drunk at that one party?”

“Oh yeah! Well, great to see you again.”

Then, to top it off, you forget about this moment because you were so blackout drunk (again). The only way you know about it is because someone said something about it on the internet the next day.

Two hot girls trying to figure out how they know each other: “oh! We were both blacked out at the Star Trek party!” #ilovesf

Or, friends are like – god you were hilarious last night. You’re all like “Yeah! Good times!” and then they have to go and bust out the details with perfect clarity. You’re like – how do they KNOW all this stuff?

“Remember when he fed you like a baby bird?”

“uh, no.”

“Remember when you squatted outside of the restaurant? The first gay guy that walked past you was like go girl get it! but his friends were so over you and super judgey about it.”

“uh, no.”

How is it that these people don’t realize you’re blackout wasted? How do you do it? It’s like your brain goes on autopilot and you just act normal. So it’s like – you poison yourself until you act that same as you would without the poison.

How do you explain? You don’t.

Stop chasing it around like you need it. You’re running around here like a slack jawed idiot, screaming and moaning. You’re a love junkie. You’re shaking, crying, clawing for your next fix.

You want that steamy, wild, blind love. You want that numbingly electrifying back-arching intoxicating love.

But you just wait one damn fine minute. That could be anyone, everyone. It probably has been.

You create that love. You conjure it up. It befalls a victim, not a rescuer.

You don’t need that love. Take that wild, that electricity, that cry into the dark dark night, and don’t you dare look back.

Mood: Be drunk from the night before. Eye fuck everyone.

Wear: Look fantastic.

Order: Bottomless mimosas. And that is all.

Company: Friends / lovers / people you don’t care about at all / strangers. It’s brunch – no matter what you’ll have a good time.

That time I walked into the middle of a field with floodlights on and peed in front of everyone.

That time I blew $400 in one weekend without realizing it.

Drinking an entire pitcher of beer faster than you.

Sleeping with that guy and that guy and that guy.

Doing all that cocaine and still being fine at work the next day.

Losing like 15lbs. by going on an unintentioanl diet of booze, cigarettes, energy drinks, and protein shakes.

All the hilarious one liners I spit while inebriated.

I know you got my text. That is all I’m here to say. This is what’s read between the lines:

You don’t want to have sex with me anymore, but don’t know how to say it / don’t want to hurt my feelings / want to keep me on the back burner.

I still want to have sex with you / don’t want to seem more interested than you are / want to get you to say what you’re not saying.

So, with all of that not said, we will just drift away from each other. I know all of this because I know you got my text.

I’m not sure how to put this, but you look tired as FUCK. Good news is, you’re still drunk from the night before. Bad news is, you got home at 3 and now it’s 8 and time to go to work. Ain’t no thang, here’s how to not look tired as fuck:

1. Still Be Drunk
This doesn’t actually help with how you look, but it makes you care a whole lot less. Which is really helpful.

2. Hydrate
When I say liquid breakfast, I mean ALL the liquid. Go with: red bull (sanity), muscle milk (cure all), & Gatorade (mouth lubricant). All available at a corner store, no matter what skanky bed you just crawled out of.

3. Be Clean + Makeup
Seriously, you could be hammered as fuck or hung so far over you’re backward, but if you doll up that pretty little face of yours, you can usually get away with it.

That’s all you need, really. Now get out there, rage ’till dawn, and don’t let the swill merchants rewrite you.

We know. He’s charming. He’s hilarious. He’s seen you at your best and worst. He takes care of you. We know.

Do not fall in love with your bartender.

He doesn’t love you. He probably doesn’t even like you. He serves you drinks and you pay him money. It’s his job to make you come back. He’s going to flirt with you. He’s going to give you discounts. And you’re going to come back.

Do not fall in love with your bartender.

He’s hot. He’s sexy. You get drunk and want him. You’ve probably kissed him. He’s probably given you a ride home. You’ve probably hung out with him outside the bar. This is not friendship, this is not love, this is not a crush. This is him being a decent guy.

Do not fall in love with your bartender.

If he fucks your brains out, that’s awesome. But remember, you are one of many.

Do not fall in love with your bartender. Come on, you can do so much worse.

Vegan by default and wild by nature. My exploits are catologed here. You’ve been warned.