The word leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth.
I do not drink as much as I use to, which is…good? Yes, let’s go with good.
I am though a fan of the dark ale and will try to have it any chance I get.
Not sure what is the point of replaying scenes in my head from almost a week ago, as if I could go back in time and shut myself up. As it is, I have a trigger word vomit disorder and with the help of good ol’ dark ale (or any alcoholic beverage), the vomit gets worse.
That should really be the name of this post.
I am stupid.
I wish to apologize to everyone at the bar who listened to me.
Honestly, who goes on about what one’s older sister said to one’s younger brother, such as, “I was plucking my vagina hair.”
Must be the same person who got excited about growing a cup size in bras and telling everyone about it…
…only to find out it was a bad week for mother nature and they were simply period breasts.
(I’m still disappointed)
Of course in between this, along with my accent, came the slurred speech.
The man behind my coworker smiled the whole time, waiting for his move to butt in and make some wise ass remark.
Did I give him an opening?
You bet I did.
In between a story about throwing shoes around, my hands projected to the side and knocked over a glass of water.
It didn’t sound as loud but my embarrassment must have drowned out the shrieks of panic of glass shattering, or my co-workers voice telling me I spilled it all over his pants.
I caught the glass though, it did not shatter, but the old man butted in.
I don’t know what he said. I honestly don’t. I just have his image in my head.
Smug, old, trying to impress his date from match.com.
My co-worker was disturbed.
I don’t remember much, but I swear like a sailor and told everyone that they are “little bitches.”
Then I fell asleep.
Because I am one classy broad.
This is my story and I’m sticking to it. If I remember anything else, I fear that this is the timid version of the repetitive memories.