Piecing Together the Previous Evening

7:53.

LED lights screaming those numbers are the first thing I see. Considering I have to be at work by 8:00, it's not good news.

Before I can process that information, full consciousness hits me like a freight train, bringing nothing but pain along with it.

I am wearing no pants, but I do have my socks and collared shirt on from the night before. Oddly enough, my pants are on the other end of the room, while my shoes are right next to my bed. Who'd-a thunk it?

Here's what I remember from the night before. It was St. Patrick's Day. Green beer. A bar. A party after the bar. Talking with a gay guy at the party. Falling, possibly puking.

That's it.

There's a glass of water on my nightstand. I didn't put it there. At least, I don't think. I stagger to the bathroom, realizing that I am still intoxicated.

Pain. Everywhere.

For the first time in my professional career, I say to myself, "Fuck it" and I got back to sleep.

I wake up about 9:45.

Pain. Everywhere.

I again stagger to the bathroom to get in the shower, intending to wash the stench of failure off. It doesn't work.

I get out, and the pain is still there, along with the alcohol in my blood. I almost slip getting out of the shower, which would have been a perfect end to a perfect morning.

I rush to get dressed, throwing on the same jeans and shoes I wore last night. As I'm getting ready to leave, I hear my roommate moving around, so I go to ask him what happened last night.

The facts are not encouraging.

Apparently I was sitting in a chair (outside, thank goodness), when I suddenly bent over, and puked in between my legs on the ground.

He said, "I would wash those jeans and throw away the shoes you were wearing last night."

I'm wearing both. They appeared to be stain free, but now, I'm not so sure.

I also dropped my glasses, the very glasses I'm now wearing, in the puke.

I notice my coat is missing, and I ask him where it is. He said he doesn't remember me wearing it, so it must be at the house. Probably sitting next to my dignity, which I also left at the house.

Just where I want to go back to. I'm sure my face is a welcome sight.

As I drive to work, some events get clearer.

The gay guy I was talking to, at first he said he wasn't gay. So I remember talking to him, half-belittling him, half friendly chat, trying to get him to admit he was gay. He does. A win for yours truly. The only one of the night.

I don't remember much else, including what time we left or any of that. I'm just glad I didn't drive.

And hey, if you happen to see a black peacoat in the Annandale area, it's probably mine.