Friday, December 2, 2011
Bring Your Hangover to Work Day.
Just for the hell of it, I decided to bring a friend along to work with me today. My trusty old pal, Hangover, has been sitting beside me, no actually sitting on me, on my head to be even more specific all day long! Oh the fun we have had. We’ve snacked on random food found around the office kitchen (bread, peanut butter, mustard, Splenda packets) took a nap under my desk, we tried to play beauty parlor to fix my red eyes and blotchy face but naughty ol Hangover just made it worse somehow. I don’t know why he always does that. The thing I like most about Hangy is how loyal he is. He hasn’t left my side once today or even let me forget for one second he’s here. It’s the strangest thing though, every time we’re together my muscles ache as if I ran ten miles the night before. And my finger nails always seem extra dirty. And he hides random things in my purse like Dorito crumbs and a pair of dice. Mmmmm Doritos. But seriously why do my legs hurt. Was I running down a large Dorito? And then did I trip and fall thus causing the random bruise on my shin?
My only real complaint about Hangover (besides everything) is that he’s pretty hard to please in the work place. Hangover prefers a more relaxing environment, like a big couch or a bed. Or even just a soft spot on the floor will do. As long as Hangover has a big cup of fountain pop, preferably from a gas station, and some cold pizza he is tolerable. Not a real social guy though, likes to be in dark spaces like a basement. Yeah, a real cold dark basement covered in a pile of blankets sounds nice right now. Even a pile of towels would suffice.
In all honestly, I kind of expected Hangover to show up today given last night’s shenanigans downtown with childhood pals, Jeni, Mal and Crystal, in town. We started pretty early after I got off work with drinks at Paris Club. Then sushi at Sunda and post dinner drinks at English. If those bars don’t have awesome (pretentious) written all over them I don’t know what does. Paris. Sunda. English. So hot right now. It was quite the night. Just a good old fashioned girls outing- that is until Bradley Cooper’s twin (as he told us he was often mistaken for) decided to take a seat with us. Yeah right. Bradley Cooper’s twin, they were two of a kind, like Dennis and Randy Quaid. Prince William and Harry. Shiloh and Zahara. Alec Baldwin and the brothers that aren’t Alec. Chaz Bono and Chastity. You catch my drift.
Well Bradley was nice at first, telling bad jokes, buying us shots, it was all very cordial. And we, Jeni, Mallory, Crystal and I, were very nice, as well. But not too nice, I mean we’re all “spoken for.” Shots. Jokes. Laughs. Drinks. Dead baby jokes with a side of Sandusky (will I ever get over him? No.) Somewhere in between a bad pick-up line and Jeni making fun of Cooper’s “satchel” things turned ugly. I guess he thought we were all making fun of him, which we weren’t… And then I think he realized he was not going to charm any of us to the point of leaving behind our significant others for a chance to date Bradley Cooper’s lizard faced twin so the Chicago bigwig attorney threw a fit like a little boy and stormed out. It was real weird. And it reminded me why I am so very lucky to be happily dating a fine young gentlemen who is completely normal. It’s a douche eat douche world out there. Things have just changed so much since the last time I was single back in 2007 when a pickup line was a keg stand and a compliment was a complimentary swig of Bartons. It was a simpler time then.
Anywho, Hangover is getting grumpy again and is back to pounding on my brain with a hammer. Must be feeding time again. Probably going to go dip a tortilla in some mustard. Happy Friday, say hello to your Hangover tomorrow morning for me!