This was an epic night of fails.
So epic in fact, that to write them all out would be too time-consuming. So I’ll summarize the evening with the following:
-I dropped off Cici and Annie at a club with a promise to come get them at a certain time. When said certain time comes around, I get a ‘pleasant’ surprise in the form of finding out that Annie and Cici have found random-ass men in said club and have proceeded to leave with them. They did not know these men prior to arriving at the club. They were also drunk. I was very worried. I was also very distrusting of random men coming to my home whose identities I did not know, so I only gave directions to get to my community instead of my actual address. However, in doing so, I sent the wrong community name and Cici and Annie got lost…for about 3.5 hours. It might’ve been the late hour (or early since the sun had just come up) or the big burly black man behind the wheel that dropped them off, but el padre was definitively not pleased when he opened the door for them.
-Gilly, the birthday girl, got drunk. Considering that she has the alcohol tolerance of a Zeus (godly and impenetrable), we were all very proud. After all, losing your inhibition and self-control is a bit of a rite of passage in our little cult of lushes. Losing your inhibition, self-control, and consciousness, on the other hand, isn’t really something any of us aspire to (unless you count that one night I just wanted to get shitfaced and ended up having to wear sunglasses inside the club and managing to get kicked out because I puked all over the sound system). By the end of the night, Gilly was passed out on the homeowner’s bed, and this turned out to be a problem because…
-I don’t like leaving girls alone in houses that aren’t theirs let alone with guys whose last names I don’t really know, let alone am capable of pronouncing. This was a problem however, because one of the guys, hereto after referred to as the Fucktard because that really should be this asinine piss-shit’s name, that owned the house insisted that Gilly was fine and she did not want to leave the house and we (I and a selective concerned friends) shouldn’t try to make her do something she didn’t want to do. Of course, the Fucktard was ignoring the fact that Gilly had, as previously pointed out, lost her inhibition, self-control and consciousness and was not really in any shape to make rational decisions like, oh, I don’t know, where she should spend the night. This led to the even greater epic fail of…
-The Fucktard threatening my concerned friends to get the fuck out of his home. Not just with words of course, because he’s a big, douche-y boy and words aren’t enough to get his egomaniacally charged point across. No, this brilliant asshole from hell begins suggesting bringing out a gun in an attempt to get my friends to leave our unconscious girl friend passed out on a guy’s bed. I’d never been so appalled and enraged at the same time. I was torn between carrying her body out of that home myself and finding something big and heavy to chuck at the Fucktard’s face to shut him up. Instead,
-I stayed overnight with the birthday girl. If I was given the choice all over again, I would’ve pulled her into the car immediately and driven her home myself instead of going through the hoopla of thinly-veiled threats of violence. In the morning a, I cleaned up the house of the decorations, drinks, balloons, and Christmas lights and practically ran out the house when I established that the birthday girl was well enough to handle herself.
I have since then dropped off Cici and Annie at the airport and have sworn to never set foot in that house again while the Fucktard breathes in it. The girls were fun but too wild for me to handle or tolerate for longer than 36 hours, and I hope to never have to see the Fucktard ever again for as long as I live. In short, it was a fail, but now I can breathe just a little bit easier without the stressors of the past few evenings.
I’m going to lie down in bed and watch mindless Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. I might even knit. I am excited at this prospect.
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