My good friend Megan’s birthday is actually the 30th, but she, Susanna, Bennett and I planned to celebrate as a group Friday night. I spent close to an hour making Megan’s card, drawing Caterpie, Metapod, and Butterfree (her favorite Pokemon) in colored pencil and writing a heartfelt note. As Bennett prepared her classic meal of chicken Parmesan, Megan opened her gifts, expressing adoration for the card. I also got her a cherry-flavored penis-shaped lollipop, raspberry-flavored lube, and a rare and very adorable Butterfree-shaped coin purse. The lollipop actually tasted like the coating of a candy apple and the lube tasted like synthetic raspberry. Susanna got her Freddie Mercury’s “Mr. Bad Guy” on vinyl, and Bennett got her some thrifted books and a fuzzy cat pin.
The meal was good, as Bennett’s chicken Parmesan is always delightful. Immediately after, Megan and I did some shots of vodka. I planned on getting shitfaced. Eventually Susanna and Bennett went into the basement to play pool, so Megan and I stayed in the kitchen sipping mixed drinks. The alcohol was seeping into my system now, with me slurring my words and coherent sentences becoming more difficult to form. Megan asked if I wanted to go into the hot tub, to which I replied ecstatically. We quickly put on swim suits and grabbed towels and I made two more mixed drinks for us.
“We always talked about going into the hot tub during winter and we never did it, but we’re finally doing it,” I said to Megan as we stepped into the porch, my heels hanging over the backs of her moccasins.
Despite the frigid temperature of the air and the fresh snow melting under my feet, I felt warm. We used what upper-body strength we both possessed to hoist the cover off of the tub and I situated the little step in front of it, climbing up and over into the luxuriously-warm water. I lit a cigarette and situated myself in one of the corners, submerged up to my neck.
It began snowing as Susanna and Bennett came out and stood by the door smoking. Megan caught a snowflake on her tongue and I tried to do the same, as Susanna told me I looked like an idiot with my tongue hanging out, but I caught one nonetheless. Susanna and Bennett went inside. Megan brought up the idea of rolling around the snow and then getting back in the hot tub, to which I, again, expressed excitement over and declaring that finally I would be one with my Finnish roots.
I still didn’t feel cold when I got out of the tub, but when the snow hit the soles of my bare feet I hesitated. Nonetheless, I leaped in a circle and despite my body telling me not to, my drunken mind overcame every rationale and I face-planted into the white powder, then immediately picked myself up and climbed back into the hot tub.
“It was worth it,” I told Megan.
It began to snow even harder and faster and in my drunken state, it made me dizzy. I didn’t want to leave the warmth of the tub, which I described as “a womb,” but I couldn’t look at the snowflakes raining down any longer.
After changing back into my clothes, I continued to peer-pressure Susanna into drinking. She told me if I did a shot of the UV Chocolate Cake vodka and chased it with a spoonful of the canned strawberry-flavored frosting Bennett bought to frost Megan’s brownie cake, she’d get drunk. So, being who I am, I did the shot, and had to force back profuse gagging. I made Susanna a mixed drink and the four of us proceeded into the dining room to play Pictionary.
Normally I am a straight-up bitch when it comes to playing board games, especially Pictionary. But in my drunken state, my level of competitiveness was subdued and even though Susanna and I lost by a landslide, I didn’t really care at all.
What happened between losing the game and the rest of the night is a blur. I don’t know when Bennett went to bed, but she went to bed long before the three of us did. We put on some music and danced in the living room. I know I’m good and drunk when I’m willing to dance. Megan and Susanna copied my moves, which they described as “dad moves.” If you’ve seen the video for “Hotline Bling”, then you know exactly how I dance.
The three of us eventually ventured upstairs, where the blankets and pillows from our last sleepover still remained. Susanna got between Megan and me, since she needs as much warmth as possible. She may be totally cold on the outside, but when she’s drunk and lying next to you, she enjoys being cuddled, so I wrapped one of my legs around her. I fell asleep quickly and easily, and didn’t wake up until around 9:40 the next morning, dry-mouthed and nauseas.
After lying around for an hour, Megan, Susanna and I (Bennett had to work an early shift and was long gone) got dressed and then got into my car and drove to the Atlantic, a diner we used to frequent more than what is healthy.
I ordered water and the sausage gravy and biscuit. After gulping down half of my ice water, another wave of serious nausea came over me, so I slid out of the booth. Trapped behind a heavy woman and her tiny daughter, I made my way to the restroom. Someone was inside one of the two stalls, and the heavy woman told me to “go ahead” into the second stall. I hesitated, wanting to be polite, then muttered, “Okay” and went inside, then realizing she had planned to use the diaper changing station all along. I faced the toilet and pulled my hair back with my left hand, but the nausea had subsided. So I sat down and peed.
I had to inch my way out of the stall so I didn’t bump into the woman and the little girl. It smelled like literal shit, and as foamy soap sat idle in my hands, I held my breath, trying to get the water to come out of the automatic faucet. I took another breath, inhaling the stench of child-feces, and moved to the other sink, quickly rinsing and then drying my hands. Back at the booth, I ranted about my dislike of children.
After eating, I still felt like shit, but I managed to smoke a cigarette. We went to Target per Megan’s request, as she wanted a pregnancy test. I bought a 12 dollar black tunic and an 8 dollar black dress, since I needed more work clothes. Then we walked down to Dick’s, also per Megan’s request, since she needed yoga pants. After that we stopped in the small Barnes and Noble, where I glanced at a magazine with David Bowie on the cover and then was coerced by a barista into buying a more expensive iced coffee.
All in all, it was a good celebration.