When last we met, our heroine (me) was intoxicated at a level still unbeknownst to her and to the members of her party. The result, is two stories. There is the story I remember, and the story of what I'm told happened. The only real difference is time. I feel like the following happened in a matter of minutes. The reality, is that it was a matter of hours. So I take you back to my apartment, on that fateful Saturday night.
We were festive and we were ready. We took two cabs, because there were 5 of us and chances of us getting a van were slim. Jason the Pirate & Jess the Biker Chick / Rockstar took the first cab. I waited with Prince William & Kate Middleton, aka Dave & Kristen. It didn't take us long to get a taxi and hit the road. I'm getting car sick. I'll open the window. We got to the W and stood in line at the door. I don't feel well. This is going to pass. No. No this most definitely will not pass. Where's the classiest place to vomit? The curb. Go back to the curb.
I left William and Kate and (as daintily as possible) crouched down next to a tree on the curb. I did my business and I popped back up as if nothing happened. I remember Prince William looking at me from the line and mouthing "are you okay?" I nodded, said I was fine and got back in place. Jason & Jess were right on the other side of the door waiting. Someone checked my ID and gave me a bracelet. I realized I was not in the best shape. I don't remember conveying that to Jess, but she did bring me right to the restroom. Apparently there were stairs involved, and I was able to navigate them.
Jess & I spent some time in our stall. I'm ruining the party. We haven't even gone into the party. When did I get so drunk? I can pull it together. We can wash me up and get to dancing. I just need to rest a little. Meanwhile I continued to hurl in a most unladylike manner. I remember Jess got sick too, but who can stand to be around vomit without joining the party? Hotel security came after an hour, and Jess convinced him we were fine.
No I don't want water Jess. I want to stay here and take a nap. That french manicure is really close to my face. That's not Jess. Why is she putting her hand in my mouth? Her nails are scratching the soft part of the roof of my mouth. They hurt. I'm going to throw up all over again.
Apparently that was the point. A self-described EMT dressed as an 80's jogger heard my plight, washed her hands, got some water and crawled under stall door to help. She told Jess I had to keep vomiting. She then forced me to do as much. Now. You may ask yourself why my dear pal would allow a stranger with a acrylics to shove her hand down my throat. Jess would later say she looked liked she knew what she was doing. And at this point, I'm pretty sure she did.
The head of security returned, positive that we were very much not okay. An astute observation if ever one was made. He said if I couldn't walk, they would have to call an ambulance. So call an ambulance. I have insurance. I don't feel like walking. Fortunately I did not actually say such nonsense. Jess and someone (?) got me out of the restroom. The EMT / 80's jogger's EMT boyfriend also appeared. He checked some stuff and declared me fine, and as just needing a lot of water. I felt emotionally awful, physically sleepy. We just got here and now I'm making everyone leave. I'm so sorry. I'm a bad friend. I would later feel worse, realizing hours had passed, not minutes.
The head of security (Robert, who Jason says was really pleasant) said we were not going to get a cab with me looking the way I looked. My head is just so heavy, otherwise I would totes lift it. And he was right. We opened the door to one cab and as Jess started pushing me inside, the driver started driving away. And then there was a much nicer option. An Escalade that I am told was very nice. Why is this door so high? This is the biggest step I've ever taken to get inside a car. I'm going to have to jump to get out. Once again, we were on our way. I'm getting car sick. I can't handle this. I started heaving. Jess whispered "do not throw up. Do NOT throw up. You can do it." Jess is right. I can hold it. The truth is I probably couldn't have if not for the EMT / 80's jogger emptying my tummy. There was nothing left. The heaves were deep and painful. Magically, I was home. Though my head was still so incredibly heavy, I took out my keys and told Jess which one to use. I do try to be as helpful as possible. She and Jason walked me up the stairs and I saw my bed. It was awesome.
|Post brunch. Glad to be alive.|
They worked like elves, getting me covered, hydrated and less blue. I woke up Sunday at 7, cozy and not feeling that bad. Jess was there next to me, like an angel. She filled in some blanks. I ate tortilla chips. We took a nap, then went to brunch with eight other people. I would have bailed, if I had not organized it. And I'm glad I didn't. I would have just sat home and wallowed in embarrassment. I mean yes, I am an adult. I didn't do anything illegal. I was well within the societal standards, considering it was Halloween. But I felt / feel bad. It was shameful. I don't know the last time I was involved with security removing me from a hotel. I suppose it's easy enough to block out. It's just tacky. It's not very Danie of me. But it happened. I can't take it back. I can only clean up the smudges of blue face paint that keep appearing in randon places. It gave me a tale to tell. AND it earned Jess & Jason vouchers for one free night of Danie-care, no questions asked, because friends are totes awesome.