so this is my recent puke story... i hope everyone enjoys it )
4:03pm and my dignity is somewhere between the bar and my bathroom floor
note to self: tequila is not your friend, itās that chaotic ex who still has your Netflix password
I actually made it home. Thatās the win. Keys fought me for a solid minute and I think I apologized to my front door. Shoes kicked off somewhere in the dark. One still by the couch, the other probably eligible for its own lease now.
The Uber ride back was all wind and bad ideas. Window down, city lights smearing past, Drake mumbling through my blown speaker while my stomach started drafting its resignation letter. Four margaritas is ājust vibesā until your body files a formal complaint.
It clocked me in the hallway.
One second Iām fine, thinking Iāll just chug water and be a responsible adult. Next second my gut does that elevator-drop thing and Iām doing the worldās least sexy sprint to the bathroom. No running in beat-up Vans after midnight. Itās more like a haunted stagger.
I barely lifted the seat.
Not cinematic. Not āindie film sad boy in the rain.ā Just me, forehead on the cold tile, praying to a god I only talk to when Iām sick or my team is losing.
Salt. Lime. Male pride. That ājust one moreā shot Jake bought at 12:47. The cheap wings I swore tasted āpretty decentā at the time. My ribs tried to exit my body. My eyes watered like I just watched the ending of Marley & Me. Pretty sure I saw my soul leave and come back because it forgot its phone charger.
The sound? Astronomical. My downstairs neighbor probably thinks Iām demolishing the bathroom. There was sweat. There was regret. There was a receipt for $73 in my pocket that I pulled out mid-crisis just to stare at like it personally betrayed me.
After, itās just silence and the toilet water judging me. I flushed and it sounded louder than the DJ at the bar. Sat there with my back against the tub, shirt clinging to me, hair a mess, Spotify still bleeding āMr. Brightsideā from my hoodie pocket because the universe has a sense of humor.
Dragged myself to the sink. Drank tap water like Iād been lost in the desert for 40 years. Splashed my face till I looked less āwalk of shameā and more āguy who might have his life together.ā Checked my phone. I texted my ex āu up?ā at 2:11am. She said ādonāt.ā Fair.
Now Iām in bed. Hoodie Iāve had since sophomore year. Mouth tastes like a dive bar mop bucket. Fairy lights my roommate put up are flickering like theyāre disappointed in me too.
The bar definitely won the afternoon
But I made it home, and the room finally stopped spinning.
So I guess I won the night.