Boston, MA. The next morning I had the most awful hangover I think I ever had in my life. The previous evening, after my first shift with A, we all went out dancing with a few Starbucks co-workers. It was so much fun, but inevitably that fun turned into a morning of head-pounding pain and continuous trips to the bathroom with my head in the toilet. Vile, and I deserved every second of it!
I found myself remembering the last night as photographic moments- each one was like a Polaroid still snapshot. Granted, I have never blacked out from intoxication nor would I say last night was close to it. It was all, well, just a bit foggy. I slowly tried to get myself to kitchen, but didn’t make it past the bathroom (again!) and decided that food would just have to wait. It was only 9 am-still early! As I tried to close my eyes to fall back asleep my phone rang. It was Max (from Starbucks) asking me what happened. My only response was “I don’t know…what happened?”, completely intrigued with the possibility of new gossip. Little did I know that I, in fact, was the gossip.
After three Starbucks phone calls, my memory slowly came back. It was an “OH!” followed by an “ohhhhh…” Yes, I had apparently made a few semi-innocent dance moves on the new guy. A actually was a gentleman and made sure I got home and then made sure another one of my girlfriends got home safely. I do remember that all clearly, however I do see how it can all appear scandalous. As embarrassed as I could have been, I actually felt a sense of empowerment. I have never made any “moves” on anyone. I had always been the girl who got the guy to do the work. But now, well I am a girl who is not afraid to do what she needs to do (or at least that is how I justified it).
Fourth phone call. Really? I got it…EVERYONE at the Bux knows. This time it was A asking if I was okay and if I wanted to go to dinner that night. Huh? What? A GUY calling the very next day after you apparently were a drunken mess (well, INNOCENT drunken mess- don’t get any ideas!). Who is this guy? I did say yes, shocked as I was, hoping that I would be able to eat something by six that evening. It was noon. When I asked where we were going, A suggested Indian. Impressive, I thought. Soon as I hung up I could feel the urge to vomit rising again. Ugh…Indian food…the stomach was not liking the idea at the moment. Long story short- I never did make it to dinner that night.