Lynn: Sorry I had to get off the phone so abruptly the other night.
So@24: -taking a giant swig of Vitamin Water- No, no, I knew you had company... you were just listening to me ramble on anyway.
Lynn: Rough night last night? You sound terrible.
So@24: Hoo doggy...
And so I told my ex-girlfriend (in great, morbid detail) of what I did on the afternoon of July 4th.
* * *
It had been a particularly low week for me. Minor, opposite-sex issues had caused a contemplative storm cloud to hover over my head the last few days. Jenny suggested Leo and I spend the weekend with her for the 4th of July.
Bless her heart.
Jenny's promise of broads, boobs, and booze was not an exaggeration. I had no idea the beach towns of Manhattan & Hermosa Beach took the day of America's independence so seriously. Leo and I both pinched each other as we stepped out into what had to have been the scene of a cliche'd college, sex, beach comedy.
Jenny, Leo and I joined Jenny's friends at the first beach-side bar for the first stop of the pub crawl. I had made a commitment to myself I was going to have a great time. I was not going to go into over-analytical mode in classic So@24 fashion. I was not going to spend my 4th, sipping a pint, sitting in the corner with a furrowed, confused, sharpee-esque countenance as I pondered over the mysteries of women.
I was going to get drunk. Flirt with some cute girls. And drink some more.
Unfortunately, you can't always tell that thought-provoking storm cloud to "back the fuck up" by drinking. More often than not, you think you can drown it and unfortunately, it doesn't work like that. Ever. I don't know why I always think it will work.
Things start to get fuzzy around bar 3 in the pub crawl.
Flash! I remember buying rounds of Touch Downs (oh God, I just threw up in my mouth typing that...).
Flash! I remember downing a Bloody Mary.
Flash! I remember filling Leo's cup full of beer after an intense game of Flip Cup at bar 2.
Flash! I remember flipping the winning cup for the round and giving this cute girl, Leo and I had eyed ealier, a double high five. This was just the remedy I was looking for!
Flash! I can't open my eyes, because they are encrusted with sand. My mouth is full of sand. Leo is cradling my head in his lap. Am I on the fucking beach? I am on the fucking beach. The afternoon sun is blinding even through the cracks in the wooden pier. Jenny is standing a few feet away with Rye crackers and a bottle of water.
Leo: Jesus Christ, So. What the fuck happened?
So@24: garble, garble, garble.
Leo: We've been looking for you for hours! Can you get up?
So@24: Just... leave me.
Leo: Leave no man behind!
Jenny: Drink this.
When the water hit my throat, I wretched. I suddenly realized the dark, moist sand I was laying in was not due to the ocean... but the entire contents of my stomach. A mixture of bile and alcohol.
Jenny: Look at your poor face, So. Your capillaries around your eyes burst. You look like a raccoon.
As Leo took his bare hand and wiped the drool and bile from my mouth, clearing away the caked sand from my face... I looked into the concerned face of Jenny and thought:
"No girl-issue is worth this shit."
Leo and Jenny, knowing that there is no way any cabbie would have me as their passenger, hailed a rickshaw to take us back to Jenny's apartment. I slumped over the side, puking into Jenny's newly, purchased tank top as the rickshaw bounced up and down the Manhattan Beach streets.
Leo: Oh, hey. Remember that cute girl we were talking to? Turns out she has a boyfriend.
So@24: Figures. ... ... -pukes-
* * *
Lynn: I can't remember the last time you drank like that. I knew it had to be girl-stuff.
Lynn: You know if we were still dating, I would have to killed you if you came to me with a story like this.
So@24: Hahaha! If we were still dating, I probably wouldn't been in a place where I'd blackout. Or at least you would have been holding my hair back?
Lynn: Hahaha, you know I would.
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