Walk of Shame
This weekend was insane, mainly because I didn't expect it to spiral so rapidly out of control. What I thought was going to be a simple housewarming party in SF where I'd show my face and leave, turned into a long night of drinking and bad British accents. My friend Jason who is both terribly nice and terribly odd had laid out quite a spread and between the booze and the "Greek mashed potatoes" [don't ask] and I found myself slightly tipsy and speaking in a terrible British accent at the prompting of an actual Brit and another tipsy person attempting an accent. Saima would have been proud - mostly - at my efforts. In the end I didn't end up leaving till 3am. A quick call to the frat brothers let me know what hotel they'd crashed at (safety first kids, never drive home drunk, just say no and all that). I took a cab to Union Square and managed to find my way to the hotel in time to pass out before the fellows could. This morning I woke up at 8:30a to get back to my place before my 10:30a soccer game, but my performance there is another story altogether.
Comments
I want to hear it before I pass judgement :)
Posted by: Saima | February 3, 2006 10:48 AM
The bad British accent can be yours for the paltry sum of a phone call ... see how I did that? Slick eh?
Posted by: Lo Fat Mo | February 3, 2006 11:50 AM
I love it. You know you're dealing with a drunken crazy person when at 3 a.m., stumbling drunk, and speaking in with a bad British accent you're wondering: "Hey! Where are the drunk frat brothers staying?!" Thank god you're male, dude. Although I hear that doesn't always matter...
Posted by: phatmunkay | February 8, 2006 2:17 PM
Not in SF it doesn't!
Posted by: Lo Fat Mo | February 8, 2006 7:48 PM