Diary of a binge drinker

I knew there was a reason why I stopped going into work hungover. There is no glamour running back and forth to the toilet, wishing that you didn't take that final shot of Tequila. Empty Gatorade bottles and left over bagel egg and cheese wrapping are strewn about my desk. And of course, that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Blinding headache, stomach in flip flops and I am trying to pace my bathroom visits this morning as not to arouse suspicion of last night's antics. That also included giving a birthday boy a lap dance, using my skills that I gained from my strip-ilates class. BTW, I am a hellauva lap dancer. My ass was made for grinding...well, you know.

But seriously, I want to crawl underneath my desk and nap. Or join AA. Which ever seems the least likely.

Trajectory of an evening binge drinking:

7pm: Eat sushi with old college friend. Polish off three large sakes.

8:30pm: After dropping $$ on dinner, we decide to be frugal and walk over to Astor Wine and Spririts and pick up a bottle of Nicholas Feuillatte champagne. $21.99 for a bottle. Great fucking deal. Seriously.

9:30: Finish bottle of champagne and get in touch with the birthday boy (who was cute, British, and had a posh accent) to see where they are partying for the evening. Birthday boy was my friend's friend. No, there are no new men in my life.

10:00pm: Meet at Bull McCabe's on St. Marks. Proceed to pound a SoCo and coke and a Jagger shot. One after the other.

11:30pm: After telling the girls about how great my strip-ilates class is, and how I am awesome on the pole, we are off to find a bar so I can give a demo.

11:45pm: Realizing that we will not get to the bar with a pole in time to usher in Birthday Boy's birthday at midnight,we end up at Bua. Have a SoCo and sprite. Much more light and refreshing than the SoCo and Coke counterpart.

12:45: Have another SoCo and Sprite. And these are long pours too!

1:00am: Give Birthday Boy a lapdance in the middle of the bar. Fling hair and rub my boobs in his face.

1:30am: Realize that it is my turn to by the next round, and instead decide to do a shot of tequila! Of course it's Patron.

2am: Stumble out of bar.

2:30am: Stumble into my bed with my friend in tow.

9:30am: Stumble into work with my friend in tow.

9:45am: Give friend hug and kiss, and convince her that I will make it through the day.
I don't even want to know how much alcohol I consumed. I am fighting back the bile that is rising in my throat just thinking about it.

The funny thing about binge drinking is that nobody ever plans to get royally fucked up. Well, ok, occasionally I do, but those nights end up disastrous and usually I end up either crying in a bathroom, making out with an ugly dude, or asleep by 10pm because I am getting OLD.
However, like a good binge drinking night, yesterday was completely accidental. Hence, I had fun. Especially dressed up as an Upper West Side intellectual, complete with Gucci loafers, AG Jeans, blazer, and my librarian glasses.

I want to write more but, let's be real, I can barely perform the functions of my job at the moment, nevermind write a funny and insightful blog post. Excuse me as I run to the bathroom for the fourth time this morning.