Sunday, March 27, 2011

Who Needs Vegas

Last night proved you don't need Vegas to have a hangover. There I was last night, sitting at home minding my own business enjoying a quiet Saturday night. Gareth was at work and it was just me and the cats doing some reading when the knock at the door broke the silence.

Several of my friends showed up determined to get me out of the house and have "just one drink" with them. I argued that I wasn't dressed or in the mood and I really wanted to get some reading done. My cat even jumped on my lap, stood on my chest and meowed a stern warning to me as if to say don't do it.

Before I knew it, my friends were tying my shoes, putting my coat on me, and dragging me to the car. As I shut the door I looked at my one cat sitting there staring at me and I said "I'll be right back."

The sun was shining and Gareth was at home in bed by the time I saw my house again. I walked in smelling like booze, second hand smoke, and sausage mcmuffin from the breakfast I needed so bad. I fell onto the couch and tried to sleep, but couldn't since the room was spinning a bit and my ears were still echoing the sound of the music from the many clubs we visited. One time I opened my eyes and there above me on the arm of the couch sat my cat, looking down upon me with a look of disgust on his face and his nose going a mile a minute. I wasn't sure if the disgust came from the fact he smelled booze and smoke, or that he smelled the sausage sandwich I ate and realized I had breakfast without him and didn't bring him a snack.

Not being able to sleep, I decided to get up and get a shower and put on fresh clothes. I was leaning against the side of the shower, letting the water run down my head and body when Gareth walked in to piss. One sight of me and he burst out in laughter at my misery with his "oh, oh, ohhhhh, hahahaha" laughter. I wanted to be annoyed with him, but I didn't have the energy. Even though he is still having much fun with the situation I have put myself in, he was kind enough to greet me when I got out of the shower with a nice fluffy towel and dry me off and put my sweat pants and t-shirt on me when even that was a struggle.

Now I sit here on the couch writing this and I glance at the book I was reading last night, still where I left it. Seems like a lifetime ago I laid that book there. Let this be a lesson, when your friends say "Just One Drink!" they really don't mean it. But now that I am sobering up, I can't complain too much. I had fun with friends and we have several new stories to tell in the coming years and the best part is, I took my camera with me and we have pictures of all the things my friends did last night that they'll try to deny in the future. "I never let a guy do a shot off my bare chest?" "Oh really, lets look at the pictures!" Priceless as they say.

Gareth is lying next to me on the couch, his feet propped up on my legs as we watch a movie and all is getting back to the routine. If only I could get my one cat to stop giving me an attitude.


Stephen said...

Gareth forgives your night out, but your pussy give you attitiude?
Is that correct?

American Irish was the 1st blog I ever encountered & is responsible for my little spot on the internet.

Best wishes from Oregon!

The New Me said...

I am reminded of one of your recent posts entitled "must not laugh." Be well.

Anonymous said...

I learned today even gay men have trouble with the pussy at home when they come home drunk. hehe

Anonymous said...

would've done more than just dry you off sexy

aidan said...

lucky you are gay and that only a pussycat in your life is giving you grief.... I feel so sorry for straight men what they have to put up with.....

Anonymous said...

almost missed this story, this is great.

mike said...

always were a light weight