Getting Wasted in Phoenix Arizona, US

I bet that I’m the only one here who can say I got wasted out of two mojitos. Let’s say one and half because I couldn’t finish the second one. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I could barely see the glass let alone take a sip from it.

It was a friend’s birthday, so after work we took the smart decision to go out and have something to eat and drink at a bar nearby. We both dressed up elegantly in skirts and heels. I wore a body hugging navy blue skirt from Celyn B with a slit at the back that was complimenting the shape of my body and a satin shirt in a warm purple color. Since it usually got cold at night, I kept an extra blouse.

My friend’s boyfriend arrived to pick us up and all of us went for dinner. While sitting and enjoying the company of my friends, I heard a weird sound as if something was breaking around me. I felt more comfortable and free. That’s right; it was my skirt that tore from the slit all the way up. Luckily for me, I was seated. I tied my blouse around and everything was fine. I didn’t want to ruin a good day even though my back was wide open.

After dinner, all of us went to the bar to have a drink. After one mojito, my friend and I were ready for another because we complained how it didn’t do anything. The bartender heard us and decided to have fun with our second mojito. After a few sips, we were wasted. Seeing our condition, the boyfriend called it a night and helped us stand up. It was just comedy to watch us walk and try to talk in a blurred speech. We just kept looking at each other and laughing.

The boyfriend was not strong enough to carry both of us. I am sure he must be embarrassed to be seen with two drunken women hanging around him here and there. In case you forgot, my skirt was ripped all the way up from the back, so it was hanging loose in the front, and the back was covered with just a blouse. I had major difficulties entering the back seat of the car, but the boyfriend just pushed my legs inside, carefully shutting the car door.

Once in the car, I had completely lost it. I was under the seats. By the time we got home, I was unable to control my movements. The good thing was that my friend and I found the entire situation really humorous and for the entire car ride we just laughed hysterically.

He parked the car right in front of our house for our convenience. We tried getting out, but instead of standing, we were crawling and dragging ourselves to the door. Seeing this, he ran to get help from out flat mates.

Even our flat mates were in a shock. About half way through the door, they came out of the shock and helped us to get in and put us in our rooms. For at least another half an hour, my friend and I were just lying on the floor laughing at each other. Later, after some struggle, I finally got in my pajamas and was helped into the bed.

It was almost 1 a.m. am and I was so drunk that I couldn’t move. At four a.m. I had to wake up for work. At two a.m. I fell off the bed and woke up because of the pain and remained there until the car arrived to pick me for work.

The driver and my colleague thought something was weird about me that morning but he only realized it when he saw me. Since I was working in a hotel, we had colleagues from all over the world, but they were mostly from Jamaica and Mexico in this part of America. I was much respected at work and very popular as well for my positive attitude and friendly nature. In a Caribbean accent, my Jamaican colleague said, “My friend, you look like you just came out of a trash can”. Ha ha ha. I wanted to get in the van but he then said, “Come this way, today it is full so you will have to sit in the trunk”. Well, so much for trying to make things more manageable. I “comfortably” sat in the van’s trunk that was fairly narrow with seven other Jamaican colleagues.

My hangover adventure was not over yet. Besides the fact that I had to sit and stand in extremely uncomfortable and painful positions, all my colleagues made fun of me in their funny accents that I couldn’t even understand half of what they were saying. I finally got to work, and throughout the ride, I had planned that I will hide inside the towels room, place some towels on the floor, lock the door and sleep until 9 a.m. And that is what I did. The hangover still did not end. I honestly don’t know how one can have a week long hangover after just one and half glass of mojito, but yes that happened to me.

My colleagues made fun of me for the next two months. Since that incident, I hardly drank in any public place or at home. I just don’t want to feel that awful feeling again. But how do people handle it!? I really need to look into this.