Sangria Gives Me 'Rhea

I work in an office composed mostly of 20-somethings who are simultanously counting down the minutes until their next alcoholic beverage. They (OK, fine... We)compose fancy e-mails dedicated to each Thursday's happy hour extravaganza, complete with bar specials, directions and photos found after typing in 'Drunk' to a gmail image search. I once tried inserting a photo of Monique, my cubicle neighbor, into the bottom of the e-mail. I took it as we were doing a photo shoot entitled 'Sexy in my Cubicle', and although it may look like she is all smiles, you can tell she is secretly thinking... 'look at my computer! my job is DEPRESSING and I am thirsty!!'
However, she threatened my life right before I sent it out, and as a result her photo was replaced with that of Buck Hunter.



Last Thursday was dedicated to everything Mexican, and as luck had it, the bar du jour El Rio Grande happened to be a mere 2 blocks from my apartment! Super convenient for a quick change out of my business casuals and even more so for the drunken commute home.

And then the Sangria happened. How many Sangrias, you ask? We may never know the answer to this question as I can't seem to find the receipt for my tab... but i can imagine it was a bountiful amount!! I am a complete sucker for Sangria, mostly because you can eat delicious little fruit tid-bits while getting wasted at the same time. No need for nachos or chicken fingers! It's kind of like 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner. Except for the fact that I HATE those. Pert Plus! ::Shudders::

While downing these delicious beverages on an empty stomach (well, except for the fruit!), I was introduced to a super sexy half-black man named Taylor, an Account Exec for something-or-other Inc. He gave me his business card, which makes me want to vomit a little bit, but I excused this move because of his overwhelming sexability factor. We took company-expensed tequila shots with his co-workers and Mr. Taylor was totaallllly digging me. He repeatedly told me how much he likes Jewish girls (WHY!?), in addition to the fact that I should quit my job and do stand-up comedy. I contemplated this idea in my head, but quickly realized I would have to immerse myself in alcoholism... which honestly, I really can't afford right now.

While I don't remember saying goodbye to Taylor, closing my tab or drunkenly crawling back to my apartment, I figured I couldn't have done anything TOO crazy as I woke up alone and fully dressed in my bed at 5am on Friday morning.

I reached for my cell phone in an attempt to figure out what happened to my post-happy hour life only to find 6 missed calls, 1 text and 1 voicemail awaiting me.
I didn't recognize the number that all 6 calls came from.
The text read "WTF?"
And when I finally mustered up enough energy to dial my voicemail
"Jess... It's Taylor. Where did you go? I went to the bathroom, and when I came back you were gone!"

Ok, so I left. I probably felt like I was going to puke. Or maybe I was just hungry? I was most likely hungry! But, did I eat?! As i tried my hardest to recall any pizza or easy mac that may or may not have entered my mouth, I fell back asleep and woke up at 8am to a dry mouth, a hideous hangover and the super-tempting thought of calling out sick.

Honestly, what better place to spend the afternoon than your cubicle, when it feels like someone has carved out your skull and replaced the insides with mashed potatos?
I struggled the 11 block walk to my office, and spent the day alternating between zoning out, scanning menupages for an inexpensive, Asian lunch and a little too much quality time sitting on the toilet. Must have been all that fruit...

Around 2 o' clock I grew some balls, and decided to give Taylor a call to let him know I was alive and well. We spoke briefly about the extent of our hangovers, and said he would be in touch over the weekend.

Amaaaaaazing, i thought! My first interracial relationship!!! I immediately called my mother to tell shock her with the news about meeting my new half-black-man friend.

"Oh, so he DOESN'T live in in Murray Hill?! Be careful, Jessie!" was her oh-so discreet response.

I didn't hear from Taylor again until around midnight on Saturday, as I was in the middle of a horrendously expensive taxi ride to Bumblefuck, Brooklyn.

Via the text, he wrote

"Hey. What R U doing?"

I excused his adolescent AOL grammar and wrote back:

"I'm heading to a party in Brooklyn. you?"

a $25 cab ride later, I arrived at the party and proceeded to pour myself a super hefty gin and tonic. As I made my way over to the crackers and hunk o' Brie that were calling my name in the corner, I felt my ass cheeks start to vibrate.

Taylor: "I'm waiting for you to get drunk and invite me over!"

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?! Is he SERIOUS?!
I decided that maybe... just maybe, he meant invite him over to the party. That would make sense! Who doesn't like a party... in Brooklyn... at 1am... where you won't know anyone except the annoying, Jewish girl!

Me: "Well, you're welcome to come to this party, but it's pretty far away"

I couldn't figure out if that was the correct response, but I went about my beverage and cheese consumption as planned.

NOW PLEASE READ CLOSELY and prepare to GAWK!!!!

::butt vibrates::
12:53am
"Thanks. i will wait for tomorrow when u r at your place. Daytime sex?"

DAYTIME SEX?! WHAAAAAT! Does he think we met on Craigslist under the Male seeking Male personal ads? Did I mention a daytime sexual rendezvous when I was blacked out off of 4, maybe 7 Sangrias?! AND he wants to partake in this daytime sex on Super Bowl Sunday? HUH!?

Once again, looks like mom was right.
I texted one last time. I was drunk and very, very confused.

"That is very forward of you", was my only response.

I went about the rest of my evening, and made it back to Manhattan safe and sound around 4am, sans any dirty responses from Taylor.

The next morning as I lay in bed hungover watching What Not To Wear and contemplating whether my hangover was mild enough to attempt a quick visit to the New York Sports Club, my phone vibrated once again.

"Give me a time and your address :)"

While the thought of getting completely naked in the daylight after 3 solid evenings of binge drinking/eating fatty items seemed wildly appealing, I closed my phone, tossed it onto my nightstand and fell back into a delicious hungover sleep.

I guess it's back to Jews for me...