My college roommate is getting married and I’m a bridesmaid. She doesn’t live near me though, so whenever we see each other we go all out. Her bachelorette party was Friday & Saturday in Maryland. Since I don’t drive on the interstate, my husband and his buddies decided to come and play golf nearby where i needed to be. Hello, ride.
Friday night we went to the Yankees game. It was fun, even though I don’t follow baseball. We drank, we laughed, we talked about old times. It was the best.
Saturday morning at 9:00am we decided to go to a bottomless brunch before departing back to our respective states. Here’s where the trouble started– bottomless mimosas. I simply don’t possess the self control needed to just have one or two. So I had 5 or 6.. maybe 10? I lost count after 5. I was having the best time.
After brunch, we decided to go to a bar– bad idea #2. We ordered multiple bottles of wine. And I made it my personal goal to drink glasses from each bottle. I simply didn’t want to miss out on everything Maryland had to offer.
By the time my husband and his buddies came to pick me up, I was drunk as hell. I’m laughing, being brutally honest, and telling everyone that will listen that my college roommate is my best fucking friend.
I ran into a group of elderly people on their way to attend a wedding and I couldn’t stop complimenting their attire. I hope they were flattered by my drunk self. I meant every single word.
What my drunk self didn’t realize was that the ride home was going to take eternity. I hop in the backseat of my car, fireball whiskey in hand, and turn on my Apple Music.
Not even an hour into the drive, I realize that I’m going to puke. We pull over on the side of the interstate and I sprint into the woods. Don’t ask why. I’m not sure. But I sprint, fast. I slip into a ditch filled with water and then proceeded to puke. So much puke. The boys chased me into the woods. I tell them to leave me there… on the side of the interstate in Maryland. Real smart, I know.
Somehow they got my little self back in the car. And somehow, someway we made it home. Only took 6 long, dreadful hours.
I don’t know why my husband stays with my crazy ass. Must be my good looks.
I’m holding a glass of water,