Tag Archives: beer

The night I FINALLY hung out with HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH… Part 1

So if I didn’t let on enough, I was SUPER psyched up for this past Friday night.  I had seen on facebook that THE HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH and I would be attending the same party.  It was pretty much now or never.  Something had to happen because this shit has been 12 years in the making and if something didn’t happen this weekend – I was going to give up.  That’s a lie, but for dramaz I’ll keep it.

Betty, her boyfriend, and I went to the party fashionably late.  I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever been so nervous. Like, I was almost too nervous to drink.  ME, Gizzy, too nervous to drink! It’s insane.  Every room we walked into I was scanning to try and spot him, there were a few times when I had false alarms and got my hopes up.  I was pretty much convinced that he wasn’t coming and had already texted Lucky saying he wasn’t there.  When finally, the fog cleared (there was no fog) and there he was.  I wanted to feel it out to see how the night was going to go.  In my head, if he acknowledged me first it was going to go well because that means he’s grown up, if I had to acknowledge him it would probably be super awkward and nothing would happen. 

I was standing there chatting with Betty and her boyfriend peaking out of the corner of my eye when I heard someone yell, “GIZZZY!!!!” when I looked over, it was him.  YE-ES!! And a good night it would be!  He waved me over to come talk to him, and when I got to the group first I said hi to his best friend, then got the best effing hug of my life from HSC.

Honestly, it didn’t feel like none of us had hung out in 7 years.  It was like we were all still BFF’s and had just seen each other last week.

Of course, I had a ridiculous ugly Christmas sweater coozie on my beer and was holding the beer by the coozie.  And OF COURSE the beer fell out of the coozie, all over HSC, and I looked like a drunkass even though I was only halvsies drunk – mind you I was double fisting at this point, so it’s probably safe to say I already looked like a drunkass before the beer ever dropped.

There was one girl from high school there, Lindsay.  Lindsay was a girl I wasn’t really friends with in high school, but we were cordial to each other, and she hung out with this same group of guys, so sometimes Lucky and I had to tolerate her and her stupid friends.  Lindsay stood there and Judge Judyed me while I picked up the beer.  She also wasn’t drinking, nor was she wearing an ugly sweater.  When I popped up from picking up the beer I was all, “OMG I’M SO SORRY GUYS! IT WAS THE COOZIE!! THE COOZIE MADE ME DROP IT!!” And she was like, “Ugh I can’t take this, I’m tired, I’m leaving.”  Ok, Judgey McJudgerson – fucking BYE! Get out of here!

Later I told Lucky that it was a blessing from above that the rest of the girls weren’t there.  Because if they had been, things would not have transpired with HSC like they did.

These girls were constantly vagina blocking me in high school.  They snatched him up for every single dance, and basically didn’t give the rest of us an ice cube’s shot in hell with him.  

 But I digress.  Now hey are all married, ugly, and fat so it’s not like he would’ve been hooking up with one of them even if they were there – but his time probably would’ve been consumed by them.  Because they are whores.  I also wouldn’t have felt comfortable standing there talking to him like at all with them standing there looking at me all judgey.  So I owe the guy upstairs big time for throwing me a bone on that one.

Anyway, after Judge Judy left we continued to talk for a while.  The first thing he said to me, “So you live in The Big City now, right?” OOOOOH YEAH.. I never told him or his friends with that I moved – he totallllllly facebook stalks me.  THEN, he mentioned a picture I posted on facebook last week.  I’m probably getting ahead of myself in saying this, but I like to think of it as a little preemptive stalking before the party to see what my deal was.  Uh yes, I’m single, and yeah I look a little better than I did in high school – so leeeets do this!

Mid-conversation Betty pulled me away to ask me something stupid, and when I turned around he was gone.  A little later the party ended and Betty was ready to move on to the next bar.  We were taking 1 last shot when I spotted HSC on the other side of the bar.

Now, I didn’t remind Betty that I’ve liked him for 12 years because she would’ve said inappropriate things that would have turn him off of me. So if at all possible, I wanted to keep her out of the loop and let things progress on their own.  But now, now, we were about to leave and nothing had really happened so if I wanted to stay I was going to have to tell her.  So I did, and no sooner than the words came out of my mouth she took off toward him.  UGH.  Knew it.

I literally had to jump over top of people to grab her arm so that she wouldn’t go talk to him.  And she was all, “But Gizzy, I was just going to tell him that we’re going to a different bar if he’d like to join.” OK, well I’m not a 5 year old, and if I wanted to invite him I would.  Yeah, he gave me some good signals when we were talking earlier, but I don’t know what his deal is, I don’t know if he’s interested so lets just fucking go.  

Now I had to pee but I’d pee my pants before I left her unsupervised in that bar.  So we walked down to the other bar, saw there was a line, decided to go back into the first bar, pee, and then just go home.  Betty and I went into the bathroom together and while we were in there I looked at my phone and had a text. 

From high school crush!

HSC: Hey! It’s HSC.  Are you at bar #2?

At this point I took a time out.  Filled Betty and her bf in on the text and asked if they’d be down to wingman at bar #2?  They said yes.

Me: Not yet, we’re still at bar #1, but we’re about to head there.  Do you want to come with us?

HSC: Yeah, where you at?

Me: By the bathrooms, come meet us!!

HSC: Ok, on my way!

We found each other, took a shot, and headed off to bar #2…

…To be continued Wednesday…

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Hey Little Boy, Want a Beer?

As if last week with my black eye, important meeting, and getting reprimanded by a clerk at target on my purchase wasn’t bad enough, it was opening weekend in major league baseball.  We all know that is a holiday to be celebrated.  A group of my friends (roomies included) and I all got tickets for our local team’s Saturday game.  We went to the bar as soon as it opened (10 am) and as expected the day was a drunken mess.

Not only did I see The Bed Wetter with his girlfriend and sister in tow an hour into the day, but I managed to get 10-15 beers down the hatch before things went sour, and thankfully I wasn’t alone.  Between the 9 of us it’s safe to say 150 beers lost their life that day.  I wish we could use the excuse that we’re still in college so that it would be acceptable but we’re not, and it’s not.  We’re adults and people are starting to get married and have kids and by god we need to grow up.

I ran kicking and screaming away from The Bed Wetter after he invited me to get a drink and hang out with them, made my way to the game, grabbed my 2 beer limited per transaction, told everyone in our group the story about The Bed Wetter and how he is a lying cheating assmunch, and hunkered down for the game.

Unfortunately there was a family that posted up directly in front of us.  I thought it would be ok since the girls sat behind the family and the guys sat behind us, it wasn’t.  They had a little girl who passed out in the middle of the game and busted her face on the bleachers, instead of being good parents and leaving to get her face checked out they handed her a napkin and continued to watch the game.  Lucky for them one of the girls that was with us let the little girl lean on her legs to get her nose to stop bleeding.  Unlucky for them, the little boy was sitting in front of me and it’s a good thing he was only 5 or 6 and doesn’t know how awesome beer is because each time I got up I and bought 2 beers he was offered one of them.  I know! I’m so horrible, but I thought it was really funny and I wouldn’t have really given a 6 year old a beer. I’m not a bad person.  The parents finally caught on to him turning around and going, “ICK!! ” And sticking his tongue out and asked that I kindly stop offering their child alcohol, but they laughed it off  and didn’t find security to have me arrested and told him they were proud of him for not giving into peer pressure.  Which made me laugh that they called me a peer to a 6 year old.  Hrmm… :/  Ah, well.

So, the game ended which was when I decided that would be a good time to go to the bathroom.  Anth warned me that they weren’t going to wait for me because they’d get escorted out before I would be able to get back (it wasn’t until after the fact, yesterday actually, that he told me he warned me they wouldn’t be there.  I walked back totally expecting them to still be at our seats.) to get back so to just call them and come meet them.  So I did, which is when the conversation that ruined the day came, it went something like…

Anth: Come to the bar down the street

Me: I don’t know where that is! Come get me!! I can’t believe you left me, wahhhh!!

Anth: It’s right down the street you dumb bitch

Me: DON’T CALL ME A DUMB BITCH!!!

There was a little more, but the dumb bitch part is all that’s still really clear to me.   I hung up on him and texted him that I was going home, then he was all “you would…” And I snapped that I didn’t move in with them to get disrespected, I’m not some dumb skank that they can hump and dump (yeah I don’t know, no humping or dumping has occurred) so don’t treat me like I am.

Eventually he apologized and offered to do my laundry but not after I made the 3 1/2 mile walk back to the apartment, which is also where I found that the hood of my jacket was filled with peanuts and peanut shells.  Thanks friends.  Too drunk to hail a cab or get aboard public transit I unsnapped my hood and continued my journey home while leaving peanut shell “breadcrumbs” along my path.

Something like an hour and a half later I made it home, passed out for the next 2 days and all is right with the world.  So there you have it, my big weekend.  These are the kinds of summer stories you have to look forward to.  I just hope none of them ever end with “and then the cops showed up.”

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Where the milk is free.

Aw, poor lil Gizzy. I know the feeling. I’ve been depressed all weekend, because I too am having to face the facts that my life is super boring. What will happen to Cocktails at Tiffany’s if Gizzy and I don’t spice things up? Welp, my guess is a lot more looking into the past and/or making up shit about our awesome futures.

My dad is still in town, we are recovering from yesterday’s drunken football day, and watching more football today—minus the beer (for now, ask me in about four hours). However, I saw something on Thursday that disturbed me so much, I had to capture it and post it for you all:

Seriously? That’s disgusting.

Talk amongst yourselves.

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I always drink coffee after I kill a man.

I definitely already wrote this blog post and then exited out of Safari without saving it. So bear with me.

It is safe to say Gizzy & I had a shithole of a weekend as we both had unwanted episodes with our ex-boyfriends, who have sought out to make our current lives a living hell. But that’s not what I’m here to discuss today—I’ll leave that up to Gizzy. Today, I’m talking about my new DC Crush, the Secret Service guy.

After our little 3 am chat last weekend, he told my engaged friends that they needed to “work the magic” with me so things could work out between us—like, whatever dude. So my friends were really into it, building him up and such saying how nice and cool he was and saying that he was just sOoOoOoOoOo into me and thought I was, like, sOoOoOoOoOoOoO hawt.

Whatever.

So after a few days go by, he finds me on Facebook in all of his Secret Service glory. We started sending messages back and forth. At first, it was going okay, but it quickly turned bad, and spiraled into horrible very very fast.

The first few messages, we were just talking about the weekend, if he made it back to DC in time for whatever it was he does, and generic stuff about his newfound bromance with my friend Ben. To which he told me I was just jealous because I don’t have a hoemance. Right, that’s it!

Now, flirting via E-mail has never been my forte, but I guess in situations like these it’s a necessary evil. However, I was hoping he would ask for my number so we could just text, but I wasn’t so lucky (pun intended).

I asked him what he as up to this weekend (the one we just had) and that’s when things went downhill. He told me he was going out with friends to Dupont Circle for some beer and wings. Naturally, I told him I was super jealous because I love beer and wings, and since I’m still doing the detox for a few more days, I can’t have beer and wings.

His response? What detox?

Which was a conversation we had the first time we talked—or else I would have been hammered when we talked at 3 am, not waking up for a glass of water and to piss.

But I didn’t say that, and simply said, “I thought Nicole told you,” and gave him the gist of the detox—a 2 week plan of very very healthy foods and herbal supplements.

To which he says: “So you mean no fun. Why don’t you live a little?”

This pissed me off, to no end. He doesn’t know me, and I don’t know him, so thanks for the judgment buddy. I know he was probably joking, but it’s like…ok don’t go around accusing me of being lame.

Just for the record, I am doing the detox because I felt like I was bordering on “Alcoholic” status for awhile there. And it’s not a life plan, simply 2 weeks, and then I’ll be back in the game. So I think people around me should be a little more supportive.

I told him I was just trying to be healthy and he said, “I will not support your boring life.”

Ok you sir are not my baby daddy, and I’m not asking you to fund my bags of brown rice and soy yogurt. Christ!

For the next five or so rounds of messages, he continued to rag on me for detox. I finally had to ask him if we could talk about something else. He gave me his number Sunday night and told me to text him if I wanted—such a copout for asking me for the digits.

So I sent him a text Monday morning…aaaaand still haven’t heard anything back. It’s Tuesday. What happened to all those things my friends told me? Looks like I’m the loser he just isn’t that into.

But you know what? I don’t even care. I shouldn’t have to put any effort into endeavors like this.

In other news, I downloaded the Sims 3: World Adventures onto my phone yesterday. Best $7 I’ve ever spent.

My Sim has already been married twice, but is currently doing well with her spouse, Nathan. She travels the world on her days off (Thursday and Friday) from the museum. She is having an affair with her boss’ husband and saving money for her first car.

That’s my life now.

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