The Worst Stories From This Weekend: October 1

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Worse than flight delays at 4:30 p.m. Worse than a late-onset hangover that slaps you in the face in the middle of brunch. Worse than waking up still drunk and loopy. I went through it yesterday — an away NFL loss that strands you three hours from home. I don’t talk sports much because, well, I don’t think people want my sports takes. At least I decided against drinking through most of the second half.

Luckily for those of you who also found yourself on the losing end of the NFL schedule, there’s some reprieve. It’s called The Sunday Scaries Podcast, and it’s on iTunes and SoundCloud. Yesterday’s episode went hard — some breakup tips, every quality you should look for in a hungover partner-in-crime, and my favorite fall drinks. Take 12 minutes out of your morning and give it a listen:

Now that we’ve got all that out of the way, let’s dive into this week’s worst weekend stories that were sent to will@grandex.co. All of these come to you unedited and in quotes below. And may God have mercy on their souls.

I blacked out Friday at an Oktoberfest, but so did everyone else so I think even if I pulled some questionable shit, no one else remembers. Totally planned on getting a Schnitzel while i was there but, it just didn’t happen. As it turns out, cheese boards, chips and salsa isn’t a substantial base layer prior to drinking lot and lots of beers.

I then blacked out Saturday after attending a professional baseball game then heading to the bars after. Tried to make out with a girl that I went to high school with who was my “not a date but could definitely be construed as a date” to the game.

Emphasis on “tried.” She thought it’d be weird because high school which I don’t particularly blame her for. So…yeah idk what happened much after that but I got home safe.

Pretty hungover sunday, chatted on the phone with my little brother. He traveled this weekend and on his Friday afternoon flight to his destination, there was a girl stumbling onto the plane because she was absolutely on one. Plane finally boards, they taxi…she yaks…turn the plane around, take her off, send a cleaning crew. Delayed 40 minutes. Third-Hand Scaries because based on the level of my blackouts Friday/Saturday I could very well have pulled some #egregious shit like this and still not know about it.

Pre-Season hockey game this coming Saturday…hope to have no emails to send after this.

Man, the fabled back-to-black blackouts like you only read about in books. I haven’t done that since Summer ’09. That kicker, though. Can’t imagine how pissed I’d be if I happened to be on that flight and we had to turn around because some idiot threw up everywhere. Hopefully she wrote in this week. Let’s find out.

Spent the weekend celebrating the end of my buddy’s freedom before his baby arrives. Lots of fun, booze and #sports. Until the 11pm phone call Saturday from the wife telling me the dog was sprayed by a skunk.

Now I have a 3 hour drive home followed by deskunking a dog and a garage he’s been forced to live in until I get home to “deal with him.”

This happened once a year where I used to live. There was some nest of fucking skunks or something that would just terrorize our neighborhood and you just knew it was coming. Wake up at 2 a.m. and smell the pungent scent of mating skunks gone awry. There’s no escaping it — just time. RIP.

My cousin lives out in Palm Springs Cali with his girlfriend who I thought got along very well. Long story short we decided I’d come out there from the Midwest for a week. I get in on Thursday afternoon last week. We were planning on going to San Diego for the weekend and leaving Saturday morning. We have a chill Thursday night, but Friday night they decided I needed to see downtown Palm Springs. We all go out together including my cousins roommate who’s a little odd. Went to this bar called moxie, which had 7 different bachelorette parties. SCORE! My cousins girlfriend is ready to leave and we were not. She leaves us there and we have to Uber back after striking out. We get back and she’s going full on psycho locking my cousin out of their room. Alcohol fueled the rage, and my cousin breaks the door down. She pulls out her pistol and shoots the ground in their apartment. Saturday morning I’m convinced I need to just head home but my cousin convinced me to stay and to go to San Diego. Great time out there. We got a timeshare exchange from my dad and I rented a car, because my cousin is a hippy and doesn’t have his license. He says he spent all of his money on vet bills the night before I came out and that he’ll pay me back for whatever I cover him for. Ended up spending close to $1500 and now knowing I’ll never see his half. Overall great experience but definitely not going on vacation with him ever again.

Uhhhhhhh… WHAT.

You guys need to run from this girl, and run quick. But make sure to zig-zag so she doesn’t snipe you on the way out. I’m not trying to get all political on a Sunday morning, but man, some people shouldn’t have guns. Granted, entirely possible she thought it was an intruder because your boy broke the door down, but still. If he knew she was keeping that thang on her, maybe don’t break the door down? I don’t know, my brain is a rollercoaster after reading that.

Last weekend, in a futile attempt to avoid the Sunday Scaries, I decided against going out in favor of embracing the gorgeous fall weather. To that end, I woke up early Sunday, meal prepped for the week, went to the gym, and got some errands/chores done, all before 11 a.m. So far, so good. With the afternoon stretching before me, I went on what I (correctly) surmised would be one of the last good motorcycle rides of the season. 40 minutes later at an intersection I look right, I look left, and then I look up at the sky as I’m T-boned by a speeding SUV and launched through the air, fully clearing said SUV à la every action movie ever. Once the paramedics/cops/etc. showed up, one supremely insightful EMT noted, “that there bike is broke good.” I fortunately(?) am slightly less broke and will eventually heal. Some of my takeaways: 1) Never stay in on a Saturday night 2) Mom was right, I will seriously injure myself on a bike 3) Morphine is tiiiiiiight 4) Sober Scaries are, definitively, the worst scaries.

And this, my friends, is why I don’t get on motorcycles. Closest I’ll ever get is my once-a-summer cruise on a jetski aka a boatercycle, but that’s it. Also, are they really Sober Scaries when you’re high on morphine?

I am in the Navy (which sucks btw) and I’ve spent the entire past week visiting my girlfriend who is currently a student at a midwestern state school. So for the last ten days or so I’ve been drinking and partying my heart out and living the life of a college student again. Now here I am writing to you in the airport Sunday evening waiting for my flight that is delayed for whats going on two hours to arrive. I have no idea when it will get here and I have 5 am PT tomorrow morning. Pray for me as I reenter the working world tomorrow.

Everyone say it with me now — Always. take. the. early. flight.

Here, just listen to this for every reason why:

So I write to you admittedly not in the most sympathetic position, but here goes. I’ve spent the past little over a week vacationing in Germany, including going to Oktoberfest. It’s been one heck of a chill sitch. Anyway, I took the early flight back to the US today, or at least reasonably early given that it takes a while to cross back over the pond. It was a great plan, at least until my flight was late leaving and now I missed the connection flight to get me home at 7 pm. Now I’m sitting in an airport, slamming coffee to stay awake because by the time I finally land in my hometown, I’ll have spent just about 24 consecutive hours in airports and airplanes. I’m broken down and tired, without a good concept of what time it is, and I’m going to be in the office tomorrow morning, because grind boy shit. How can I go about making this the least terrible?

Also, shouts to you guys for the Liquid IV plugs. That stuff kept me going strong all week, drinking liter Oktoberfest beers and doing sightseeing.

1. See above.

2. Major shouts to Liquid IV. Yeah, they’re an ad partner with us, but the stuff just works. Has helped me with numerous hangovers over the past few months.

3. I tried to get coffee during a layover recently. It was, like, 7 o’clock at night and I just needed a small boost because I had a 2-hour drive after my final flight’s leg. Starbucks, while still open, told me they weren’t serving coffee anymore but they “had some tea with caffeine in it.” Starbucks. Not serving coffee. Fuck you, Chicago O’Hare. Worst airport ever.

I just spent 9 hours grading papers and lesson planning for the week ahead. Correction: for the day ahead. I have to repeat this god awful process tomorrow evening to prep for Tuesday’s classes. My husband napped, snuggled our dogs and watched football all day (he’s a physician who will have to work 7a-7p on Thanksgiving Day so he doesn’t exactly have a schedule worthy of envy) which was just salt in the wound.

The worst part of this Sunday situation is that it’s been the same for the past 8 Sunday’s and will continue to be the same for the next 11 Sunday’s (but who’s counting?) until Christmas break because I was hired 3 weeks before school started and have ZERO curriculum from the ahole teacher who left. The cycle never ends. Grade papers. Lesson plan. Grade papers. Lesson plan. Grade papers. Get pissed that these shithead teenagers think they’re smarter than me and can cheat without me noticing. Lesson plan. Have a phone conference with a mom at 4 pm on a Friday afternoon when I should be at my local happy hour. Grade papers.

On a side note, I love the weekly column. It gives me something to look forward to for my Monday planning bell. Before I, you guessed it, grade more papers.

I… I don’t even know. Am I jealous of teachers because of their summer vacation? Yeah, of course. Am I jealous that they have to deal with this type of stuff week in and week out along with a bunch of snot-nosed little kids who spend all their time fucking off rather than learning? No, not one bit. Major shouts to all the teachers out there doing God’s work.

Hey Will,

Loving the new podcast. My candle game has improved tremendously.

This weekend I went to a beer garden for an Oktoberfest with a bunch of friends. Obviously, a dangerous amount of beers were consumed. I decided to crash at a friend’s place because the Ubers in the city are way too expensive on a Saturday night.

The plan was that I’d share a bed with my friend Chet, which was nbd even though a few of my friends think he’s into me. So we got home and I hopped into bed and I’m like about to fall asleep and he gets in bed and immediately cuddles right up next to me — arm around my waist, the whole nine yards. I am not a cuddler and i am 100% shook as soon as this happens. I honestly thought our relationship was entirely platonic. Sunday scaries are at an all time high today and I thought I was going to have a stress free day. I am suffering.

Man, rest in peace, Chet. Dude just got demoted to the friend zone harder than I’ve ever seen. I hate to make your Scaries worse, but honestly, Chet definitely thought you may be into him if you decided to drunkenly sleep over rather than head back to your place. Yeah, things are weird now, but a lot of mixed signals on both of your ends from what I can tell. Let the dude down easy and sleep over at a girl friend’s place next time.

After no contact for over a year, a couple weeks ago I reached out to the girl who said no when I asked her to marry me. We’ve been talking and the feelings are starting to come back on my end…she lives 2000 miles away and I can already tell this is going to end in more pain…should have never texted…

NOPE.

I had to put together an ikea dresser.

As you may or may not know, my girlfriend and I just moved in together. She made us go to Target twice on Saturday to get structures that we’ll put clothes on in our closet. If you know me, you know I hate Target and putting shit together. It was the worst two-and-a-half hours of my life.

Let me just preface this story by letting you all know that I’m notoriously bad at day drinking. I used to blackout at every tailgate in college no matter how much I tried to pace myself. After graduation my friends vowed to never day drink with me again, let alone go to a tailgate.

Fast forward to this weekend when I finally convinced them to come back to our college town for game day. We cracked our first drinks at the ripe hour of 7am which proved to be a huge mistake. Fast forward a few hours and I’m about a dozen drinks deep. All of a sudden it clicks that I definitely shouldn’t in public given my current state, so I go find my friends to get them to call me an Uber. Apparently as I was walking towards them I tripped over a curb and face planted on the sidewalk in front of at least 100 people. I have no recollection of said fall, but I’ve been told I just laid face down for a solid minute before my friends came and peeled me off the ground. To make matters worse, I was wearing a jean skirt and all I can think about is the fact that I most definitely flashed those 100 people while being hauled away by my friends. Apparently I fell about 3 more times before getting packed in an Uber and sent home.

I wake up in my bed 6 hours later with no recollection of the mornings events. Still absolutely hammered, I decide it’s a good idea to meet up with my friends at a bar. Instead of changing before I left, I pull up to the bar covered in grass stains and scratches, sporting a knee that looks like it got bashed in with a hammer. I write this to you from the hospital where I’ve just been informed that I have a patellar fracture (broken knee cap) and will need surgery because pieces of my bone are just floating around inside my knee. Not ideal. Also my friends hate me and I honestly don’t blame them. I think I’ve finally accepted that I need to retire from day drinking and maybe drinking in general. Thoughts and prayers would be greatly appreciated at this time.

Uh, yeah, retiring from day drinking definitely sounds like the move here. Even the greats need to retire sometimes. You even broke one of my cardinal rules for day drinking — you showed up to brunch without showering. Gross. The rest are here:

Shouts to your knee cap, though. Hope it recovers.

Willllllll,

Today (Sunday) I am having a hard time deciding if this is one I want to write about. Thought about mulling over it for a few weeks until its potentially a funny story or just getting it off my chest now. I’m going to go with getting it off my chest now because I don’t want to tell anyone about this and I feel like a piece of shit, so, here it goes..

On Friday I was super excited to leave work because the plan was to go to a town that’s 45 minutes away for a concert. I’ve been out of college for about a year and a half and the town where the concert was in is a college town, not my own though. I wasn’t planning on drinking that much because I had to be up at 7:30 AM on Saturday morning to drive back to my hometown for something else.

So I get to the show Friday night and by 11:30 PM I have found all my friends, which all seem to be hammered, and this is a concert you don’t want to be sober for. So, I don’t know why I felt so invincible, (this was after a pre game) but I thought I needed to get on their level so I went to the bar for a shot of vodka and a double vodka water. I wanted to get it all at once so I didn’t have to fight the crowd to and from the bar. I guess probably 30 minutes later I still felt everyone was trashed, and now looking back I probably was too, but invincible me decided one more round (which was equal to three shots) would suffice for the night and I would cut myself off after that. Well…that’s the last thing I remember.

I have faint memories of talking to a nurse and that’s about it. I wake up Saturday morning super upset but I’m alive, at my friends place and everyone’s not mad at me, so that’s cool. Then they tell me the story and I am mad at myself enough for everyone. Idk why I have such nice friends.

What I was told — After the second time going to the bar, I finished my drinks and told my friend I was going to the bathroom. I came back and told him I felt super sick and we needed to leave. They think I threw up in the bathroom too while I was away, which I haven’t done that from alcohol in a few years so that sucks to break that. Anyways, my friend, being a great friend, decided to leave with me and take me home. We get outside and sit down waiting for an Uber and of course, four cops try to talk to me. I can’t stay awake to speak with them so they call EMS and my friend told them, “no, it’s fine, we have an Uber on the way and she can just sleep it off.” Which they responded with, “and who the fuck are you? Fuck off and get away from her” which made my friend feel helpless. Once the EMS picked me up, they wouldn’t let my friend come with me, so who knows what happened in there.

I am admitted at an ER (according to my discharge papers) at 1:39 AM and discharged at 4:02 AM. While I was at the hospital, the friend who was still at the concert had another (sober) friend come to pick him up from the show and then they came to get me. They just took me home and I slept the rest of the night. On Saturday morning, they both told me it wasn’t that big of a deal and they’re not mad, it could’ve been worse, blah blah. It is super nice of them but I still feel so guilty (and mad I don’t remember this concert). Two things that I’m upset about: #1: The discharge papers literally only say they ordered an alcohol lab and the status is complete. It doesn’t say what my BAC was, if they gave me fluids, what happened while I was in there. UMMM, WHAT?! How do they expect me to remember what went on in there?! What if they gave me something I was allergic to, I mean, really, they should put on the paper what happened to me while I was there for my own knowledge. And #2: This is easily similar to shit we did in college but we always just went home and slept it off. Really, there are plenty of times I was more drunk in college but just didn’t run into cops. If I didn’t get the bad luck of running into cops, I could’ve just gone home and slept it off like any other time.

I guess the good news is that I wasn’t as hungover the next morning as I should’ve been thanks to the fluids they probably gave me but I was emotionally fucked and still am this Sunday afternoon. I did lie to get out of something really important to me that I had to do Saturday morning (which is probably where most of my guilt is coming from) but did meet up with those people in the early afternoon. Anyways, that’s that. Maybe not that big of a deal, didn’t get a DUI, no PI, but I’m feeling it and now I’m about to give the Emergency Room a call to see what happened in there. Let’s hope they take my insurance.

Update: Would’ve been $2,259.40 without insurance. Just paid $451.80 using my insurance. Not too bad but I thought insurance would’ve covered more? They wouldn’t tell me on the phone what they did to me while I was in the hospital and said I had to call back on a weekday to talk to someone else to find out. I’ll update you if I get any other crazy info.

Sorry this is so long, needed to vent somewhere. Thanks for all you do 🙂

Sincerely,
A girl wondering how long these guilt filled scaries are going to last

Damn. I mean, I don’t even know. I want to say chugging all those drinks wasn’t the move, but it kind of seemed like a good move when you first started explaining it. Did you eat dinner? Honest question. All that being said, I guess the EMS guys were just looking out for your best interests which is keeping you alive. Just be thankful you have health insurance and friends who aren’t making you feel like shit for everything that went down. They’re some real ones.

Currently sitting at SFO with an awful wine hangover from a weekend in Napa. We were supposed to leave an hour and a half ago but instead we have started to board twice and then were asked to deplane and moved to another gate. It’s going to be 1 am when we finally land in DC and I have to work tomorrow. I haven’t seen my dog in 5.5 days and I just want to be back home in bed with him.

Man, ain’t no hangover like a Napa hangover. I know because I just recently want to Napa, not to brag.

And an update from her.

Update: I finally made it to my dog at 3:45 am.

Dogs — cherish them with everything you have. .

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Will

Will (Twitter / Instagram) is the host of The Sunday Scaries Podcast.

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