Am I like, subconsciously self-destructive on Valentine’s Day? I really don’t care much either way about the holiday. I’m sure I’d find it to be incredibly romantic and sweet if I were ever dating someone on the day (or totally awkward timing) but I never am so I just don’t really care about it.
However, I do like to get dressed in hot pink or red and I definitely use it as an excuse to go out with my best girlfriends and dance the night away looking hot or really ugly depending on how drunk I get. Which, given the last two years, is way too drunk. Here’s what happened last week and why, subsequently, I was absolutely dying on Sunday. I mean I didn’t even get out of bed until 7pm. That’s bad.
Anyway, I don’t know what happened. I mean I do – but only to a certain extent. Like I’ve told you, Quasi-Stepsister Alex came over and so did Bex and we had a couple drinks and hung out in my room and bonded. Alex pretended to be me on gchat with Eager Beaver Wesley (who’s invitation to dinner tomorrow night came Friday afternoon and which I have chosen to ignore). Around 10:30, Bex and I met Twin at a midtown bar where our friend bartends. Bex found some rando black dude and almost immediately began making out/gyrating with him on the dance floor/in a booth. Thankfully, Twin is a stellar wingwoman and we danced by ourselves until we found our-friend-the-bartender’s-girlfriend, who is awesome and tons of fun. We hung out with her and her friends and took some shots thanks to our-friend-the-bartender and took full advantage of the open bar in ever way possible (read: lots of drinks.).
At some point, Bob Saget tried to approach Twin and me, although Twin explained that she was married and I explained I was Jessica. This made sense at the time. We proceeded to glare at Bob Saget to indicate our strong feelings of reproach, at which point Bex emerged from her black dude and within about 83 seconds was making out with Bob Saget.
Now, Twin and I tried our best to prevent and then stop these things from happening, we really did, but if you know Bex, you know that when she is on a mission, she is unstoppable. So we judged a bit and moved on and then apparently I blacked out. The next thing I knew, Marathon Man, Twin’s husband of four years and also a forest ranger from Vancouver had arrived. In real, sober life, Marathon Man is Twin’s boyfriend of about four months. He is from about an hour upstate.
I definitely tried to claim him as my boyfriend, which he nicely played along with. The poor guy really had no idea that when he started dating Twin he was also required to become my wingman/saving grace from sketchy dudes. Unfortunately, Marathon Man kind of failed, since I learned the next day I’d given my number (and real name – what?!) to someone. I learned this because he texted to say happy Valentine’s Day and also called me and also texted “hey sarah how are you?”. The number was not saved in my phone, I don’t remember talking to anyone remotely attractive or even unattractive. Obviously each attempted contact went ignored and the mysterious 917 number has not appeared in my phone since Monday.
Back to the actual night. Marathon Man failed and then I blacked out again and I got in a cab with Bex who lives in Brooklyn and she informed me later that she got dropped off at a subway stop. I managed to get myself home and spent the entire next day miserable and dying for no apparent reason, since I did not mix alcohols or have tequila.
So I can only gain from this experience the assumption that Drunk Sara must be really miserable on Valentine’s Day but also must be nice enough to Sober Sara to let her think she doesn’t care, since Drunk Sara just blacks out and then Sober Sara has no idea what happened.