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There are Sunday Scaries, and then there’s that feeling of, “I wasted my weekend being sick on the couch.” I’m not sure which is worse, but I did my best to find out this past weekend. But enough about that.
This week’s episode of The Sunday Scaries Podcast included the following: a list of brunch drinks for when you’re not feeling a traditional bloody or mimosa, iPhone anxiety triggers, and a push for you to reach out to an old friend who you haven’t talked to in a while. It’s available on both Apple Podcasts and Spotify, or you can listen below while you read all these worst weekend stories. I don’t care how you listen as long as you listen.
Now let’s get into this week’s stories. They were all sent to me anonymously to [email protected]. If you feel so inclined, pass along your own.
Found out the dog I grew up with of 14 yrs was dying so I decided to make a trip back to the hometown. Our dog was put down (rip) and family and friends were feeing pretty shitty. Side note: you realize your age when your childhood dog finally passes away. Went out with old high school friends that night and decided that it was a good idea to talk a lot of shit and challenge my brother and his friends to a game of 3v3 football the next day. My brother and his 2 friends are all committed to play football in college while me and my friends never actually touched a football field in high school (excellent idea). Our fat out of shape asses vs 3 in shape man children. Game started and we held our own due to pride and stupidity until I took a cut and felt my knee go the other way. Torn acl. When it was all set and done, the carnage looked like my team had just left a war zone. Now I’m stuck in hometown with a torn acl debating whether or not to drive back.
Well, we’re starting off pretty hot this week, huh. First and foremost, I couldn’t be more sorry about your dog. I may go home at lunch today and just sit on the floor with my dog until I forget that you sent this story in. Secondly, here are some words of advice: pick-up football is no longer acceptable after the age of 25. I know, I know. It’s fun. But after a hungover game of football this past summer, I think I was sore for about a week following. We were lucky that no one tore an ACL, but it’ll happen next time. I guarantee it.
What’s up Will LTFT here, writing this trying to not throw up in the airport bathroom. Long weekend naturally means a buddy needs to do a birthday trip down to Miami. We all hadn’t been together since we graduated two years ago so planned to do it right, the UMiami-FSU game, Story, Liv, and E11even all on the list. In the absolute chaos of the weekend I managed to break multiple fingers, lose my graduation watch and apartment keys. Last night’s brown out is coming back to me and some how went from vibing with one of the girls that came with us to e11even to a private room blowing $450 on a dance on a stripper I probably convinced myself was into me. 0 hours of sleep later I’m sitting in the airport scrolling insta and found out my recent ex has already moved onto another guy from our friend group adjacent. Didn’t think I could be more rattled but a guy from work just texted me to let me know a whole desk just got let go so job security is sketchy as well. Really not sure how it could get more scary at this point but at least it’s a 4 day week? T&Ps always appreciated
Wow, another death blow of a story. I legitimately do not know which part is the worst. Honestly, I could name this column using different aspects of every part of this story. I guess your only move is to start flirt-texting with a girl who’s in your ex’s friend group adjacent.
My wifi has been down since Friday. Technical support couldn’t fix it over the phone and the earliest they can send a technician is Wednesday afternoon between 5 and 8. And I’m already at 90% my data allowance.
My biggest fear in life (yes, BIGGEST) is having the power go out on a Sunday night, mainly because I need wifi or cable. The thought of sitting alone with my thoughts at 10 p.m. on a Sunday is too much for me to handle. I think I’d have to go to Walgreen’s and just chug a bottle of Zzquil.
SOS. Friday, I drove down from Chicago to STL to see a friend for her birthday. We’re all starting to turn 26, so it’s a big year getting kicked off our parent’s insurance. Gotta mourn that loss together, you know? Anyways. Traffic took 6 hours to get here. That sucked. Got out of my car to head into my friend’s apartment and ran into my ex who apparently lives across the street. That also sucked. But, I’m happy to report we were tucked into bed by midnight and got a great night of sleep.
Woke up, started exploring the city, and having a drink here or there. We then went to Oktoberfest about 4 to meet our other friend’s fiancée’s med school friends. This is where my story takes a turn. My friend and I split a bottle of wine (trash move at this type of event, I know…but it was with the birthday girl so I wasn’t going to complain). Head to a pub to catch the Michigan Wisconsin game. Within minutes of getting there, I start to feel sick and get up to go vom. Ashamed I can’t hang and split a bottle anymore, I didn’t tell my friends I was getting sick. Turns out the friend I shared a bottle with was also getting up to secretly go vom. The food comes, it sucks. I donate my tots to the hot med students and call an Uber. The other vomming friend/birthday girl comes with me. Had to make the Uber pull over so I could have at it again. Haven’t done that since I was 21. That wasn’t fun. Get home feeling like absolute trash from the wine, but mostly because it was 8:19 on a Saturday and we were calling it quits. I write to you at 1:22 AM because our third friend just woke up to throw up and now I’m wide awake from my 4.5 hour nap and the headache is really setting in…
How am I suppose to drive all the way back to Chicago tomorrow? Please pray for no traffic. Also, tell Sally I say hi.
I’ll keep you updated,
P.S. Reeeeally hoping there’s no grammar mistakes here. I always judge the other submissions and here I am with my own.
There are no worse Scaries than the Scaries of a looming hungover carride. I’m having heart palpitations just thinking about it.
And she followed up.
To round out this weekend from hell, I am currently in bumper to bumper traffic and dinged the semi in front of me. Any idea how much it costs to get scratches on a front bumper fixed?
Honestly, just pretend it never happened.
At the beginning of August I moved from the South to the Pacific Northwest to pursue my graduate degree after working for awhile in Atlanta. Knowing absolutely zero people on this side of the country I did what any normal person does nowadays and fired up the dating apps. Matched with a girl on my 3rd day here that had just arrived for a work clinical; meaning she was only here temporarily. We went on a coffee date that ended up lasting 5 hours and for every week after that we saw each other very regularly. We both started catching the feels and knew that long distance was out of the question, but wanted to spend time together until she left. Except for last week when she stopped responding to my texts and calls. No warning or signs and she is gone. Now I am worse off than I was and winter is coming (shoutout Clams and Cockles); it’s already in the 30s here. Currently wrapped in an oatmeal cardigan with a linen scented candle burning trying to ward of the scaries.
Well, at least you have your oatmeal cardigan.
But in all seriousness, just fire up the dating app again. Cuffing season and all that millennial jargon. I know that’s probably not what you want to hear, but the clean break from her was going to have to happen eventually.
I stayed in Friday and was productive all day yesterday, which led to a false sense of invincibility going into the night. Started early and drank 3 different types of alcohol at the pregame which was my first mistake. Cut to around 11 pm, my friend who was drunker than I bought a round of tequila shots, which I promptly threw up in a nearby trash can. At some point I realize my wallet is missing, so I go to the bouncers in the front to report it. While I’m up there, a wasted girl is getting literally thrown out. I realize I know the girl (just a casual acquaintance) and unfortunately I have a conscience. I help the inebriated girl (which was extremely difficult) and eventually the bouncers helped me put her in a cab (I gave the driver my number to text me when she got home safe). The cab door got closed on my finger, which is still in excruciating pain today. So I did my good deed and I get a messed up finger and still-missing wallet. I go home defeated and drunk. Going to bed, I failed to put on my sleep apnea mask (which makes for a terrible night’s sleep – when I got my sleep study done I had 14 non-breathing episodes an hour). I wake up, call the bar and they have my wallet- unfortunately it takes an hour of driving to retrieve it and get home (bar is in the city, I’m in the suburbs). The hangover from hell is finally subsiding but the scaries are not.
You’re a better man than I. I legitimately probably would’ve put her in an Uber and hoped that she made it home safely. As for the wallet, I don’t even have words of encouragement. Losing shit when you’re drunk is the worst, but at least it turned up. Most recently, I thought I lost my credit card so when I went to the bar to grab it, I stood there like an idiot only to find it in my wallet while I waited. I deserved it for being drunk enough to think that I lost my credit card in the first place.
I broke one of the cardinal rules, and went back to my alma mater this weekend (note: I brought along my best friend and his buddy, who both graduated from U of A and wanted to experience the SEC). A few of my other fraternity brothers who graduated were also coming back because it was a big game.
I graduated back in 2014, so I’m pretty old. At this point, I know a few of the fifth year guys in my fraternity, but that’s about it. I’ve been breaking this rule ever since I graduated, but for the first time I actually felt old. I introduced myself to one of our pledges and the kid goes “Oh yeah I know you, I just had to memorize your pledge class because you’re one of the old guys.” Great. Also got called 40 by some girl as I brushed past her to the bar.
Fast forward to the tailgate, and all is going well – again, except for the fact that every girl I tried to talk to was just starting high school when I graduated college. Bright side is my first marriage will probably go up in smokes, so I could’ve met my future second wife. Anyways, was actually able to hang with the undergrads until someone tossed a FULL beer can in the air and it landed on my head. Felt like I got a fastball to the dome. Good amount of blood and probably a concussion later, I got the blood to stop so I could go into the game.
If this wasn’t bad enough, I broke another cardinal rule and didn’t take the early flight out. Plan was to watch the early football games with my friend at a bar, that a girl I’m friends with from college, bartends at. She had to leave town, so we were stuck at a random bar. Still fun, but not worth the scaries build up. Get to the airport and thank god my flight is on time, but my buddy’s flight is very delayed and might be stuck overnight (second hand scaries are out of control). To top it all of, got a text from my CEO over the weekend that I have to build six financial models first thing tomorrow. Next weekend can’t come soon enough.
Nothing makes you feel older than when someone says they “graduated in 2014” so they’re “pretty old.” What, you’re like… 25? 26? You’re a whippersnapper.
But yeah, the comment section can say all they want that you shouldn’t go back to your alma mater for a weekend of binge drinking and talking to college girls, but I will just point them to this story right here. Brutal.
Long time, first time and all that stuff. Writing in from a treadmill sweating off the this weekends hangover. Finally got the courage to write in about a rollercoaster of sober/drunk scares from months ago. To make things short, buddies decided to all meet up at alma mater (I know, bad decision). Weekend starts off Friday with the worst sober scaries when my girlfriend of three years and I broke up. Saturday then follows by consuming far to many IPAs and proceed to projectile vomit on myself during the game. Followed by losing my buddies and drunkenly walking 5 miles in the rain covered in puke and find them. Always a good time. On top of that, moving to new city 9 hours away this month, so all the scaries are real. Thoughts and prayers appreciated.
To make things shorter, ended a three year long relationship, drunkenly projectile vomit on myself at game and then trek five rainy miles covered in puke to find buddies. Moving far away this month.
I would try to give you words of encouragement, but I don’t see any solution for all this other than you moving far away. Puking IPAs on yourself is tough to bounce back from.
I flew down to Medellin on Thursday for the weekend. You obviously know what happened all weekend. Flight back is delayed where I go straight in to the office and my CEO just emailed me for a report.
To be fair, it’s not like you thought you weren’t going to hate your life come Monday when you booked a flight to Medellin.
Bought tickets for Phish New Years Eve at MSG. Not scared right now just giving you a heads up for my submission on New Years Day.
Never miss a Monday show, bro.
Flew back to the east coast for the first time since moving to California. One of my friends got everyone together for my last day here to watch football at a local bar. I got emotional and offered to pay the whole tab to thank everyone for coming. $700 and about an hour of sleep later I’m at the airport at 5am praying the seat next to me will be empty so nobody will notice I used Febreze as cologne. How old is too old to move back in with your mom? Asking for a friend.
I’m not an advocate of tossing out Venmo receipts when you make an offer like that, but come on, dude. You can’t do stuff like that.
So I introduced my parents to the girlfriend’s parents this weekend. Asked for permission. Got the permission. Fuck yeah.
Flight at 6 AM. Boss called around midnight his time. I have to show up at the airport, move my flight and call into a 2 hour meeting on my day off due to a major outage and then work through my flight. Thank god for good wine and the most amazing and intelligent future fiancée. (Not to brag but I just enjoyed one of the rarest wines in the world and holy fuck it was good.)
Alright, dude, we get it, you have your life together. Buzz off. .