we’ll call it mine

18 Sep

Title should really be “let’s call it a learning experience” or some such, but meh.
I went to a party tonight. Its lasting influences on me seem to include a temporary dose of tinnitus, a bit of a buzz that mainly manifests in my speech, and a healthy respect for those lovely folks who entertain me by being drunk/on their way to being drunk.
Well: I am going to use initials instead of names, since I have no idea if persons who would find this incriminating are reading this. Better to be on the safe side, I’m gonna say.

New milestone: comforted my first drunk person! H, you are fabulous, but please try not to be so floppy when you’re smashed. You kept going “I’m such a bad person for drinking, you, you’re a good girl, I, you should be proud of yourself,” and I tried to support you as well as I could. I met your boyfriend. He seems okay.

SECOND milestone: did a “shot” with G and J. I put “shot” in quotation marks because I kind of poured about a quarter of it out on the floor before, drank 3/4 of what was left, poured the rest out on the grass when you weren’t looking. Sorry, guys, for being a deceitful drinker. Maybe another time. With classier liquor.

Third milestone: or well, not really a milestone but I think it opened my eyes: P and J were forcefed pot brownies by another P. The first P mentioned had also taken several shots of tequila, I’m not sure about J. Anyway, they were bumbling around together high as kites, talking about stuff that I found a little disarmingly unfunny, trying to find the source of the original brownie provider. I tried to get them to write me poetry whilst high. They decided to do so on a tree. I think I am starting to like drunk people.
P is a small guy. He had 3 tequila shots. Tomorrow morning is going to suck for him. I doubt he’ll remember anything.

Fourth: A came up to me yelling about “CANADIAN!!!” and waving a cigarette around. I smiled back. He was drunk, or didn’t understand any of my witty banter. It was ridiculously witty, I am disappointed.

Fifth: ignored K. Suprisingly easy. I think she was hitting on either W or J or C. Possibly all three, though C is in a relationship and was also very drunk.

Sixth: I tried to help P up. It didn’t work. She had a lit cigarette in her hand, I pried it loose and put it out in the grass. I’ve never held a lit cigarette before, let alone someone else’s. The filter end was all sticky and ewwww. She clutched onto my hand and I tried to hoick her onto her feet, but she did the same floppy boneless thing as H and slumped back onto the grass. Hum.

Seventh: Saying “let’s hug it out” to pretty much any intoxicated person will make them completely docile.

Eighth: J-on-his-way-to-being-smashed is scary as fuck. Loud, in your face, drinking Cruzan Confusions and vodka and cranberry, prancing around with MR and EM and others. He did not even try for intelligent conversation.

Synopsis: I like some people when they’re drunk (ie PC, J, W), I dislike others.

Also, one of these days I am eating a brownie and then writing poetry, dammit.

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