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Ah, the rare “I’m not going hard this weekend” where I actually didn’t go hard this weekend. You have to love that. But it wasn’t until I shoveled disgusting amounts of Tex-Mex down my throat on Sunday afternoon that I actually felt hungover and an onslaught of Sunday Scaries after being relatively healthy all weekend.
Luckily, I got a whole slew of Worst Weekend Stories to offset it. And I also provided the masses with a new episode of The Sunday Scaries Podcast which you can find on Apple Podcasts and Spotify, or you can listen here:
And in other podcast news, we also have been breaking down some of the best Worst Weekend Stories on Touching Base (again, on Apple Podcasts and Spotify). Here’s last week’s episode where we broke down one dude’s mess of a day at The Hunt:
Now let’s get into this weekend’s stories. As always, these are unedited and sent to me at firstname.lastname@example.org. If you have your own, I’d love to hear it.
My MIL came into town from out west to spend a long weekend with us. From time to time she’s mentioned wanting to move closer to us and this time she actually went house shopping…and she wrote a check for a down payment to build a house 15 minutes from us. New house should be ready in April. I can already imagine how often we’ll see her now. Sober scaries are the worst.
Not only are you going to see her a lot, but now you have the check she wrote hovering over your head for the rest of your life. Don’t want to do something invovling her? “Hope you like the house we paid for.” It’s literally going to come up at every turn, Anonymous Internet Dude. If anything, you should move further away. This is bad news all around.
I was too emotionally compromised to get this in last night, but here we are: last night I got out of a 7:00 pm showing of A Star is Born only to get a text from my ex who p much destroyed me by a) being an emotionally unavailable douchebag for most of our relationship b) breaking up with me via text message after TWO YEARS TOGETHER c) reaching out a year after said breakup to try to get back into my life and refusing to take no and my lack of response for an answer. Getting a message from him on my best day is enough to ruin my night, but after seeing a movie that was basically emotional napalm, it’s safe to say that my whole week is off-kilter. SOS.
I can’t really relate to the whole texting thing, but I saw Mid90s on Saturday morning (weekend morning movies are a low key flex) and I left the theater emotionally wrecked. So much nostalgia, and such a suprisingly intense movie (in a good way). People are going to tout A Star Is Born through Oscar season, but don’t sleep on this movie. Emotional napalm as well.
Writing to you from the wonderful desert country of Iraq, as I am currently deployed here as an Officer in the wonderful United States Army.
The story I’m about to share with you takes place the night, I’ll repeat, the night I got back from my first deployment in 2017. So just over a year ago.
I got off the bus from the airport and was met by my two friends, both of which informed me that we would be heading down to 6th Street that night as we are stationed at Fort Hood. We get back to his house after a quick stop at In N’ Out, and I shower and borrow some of his clothes and we set out for the 45 minute drive to the hotel. Now, I knew that my tolerance is low seeing as I have had no alcohol for six months so I was taking it easy. We get to the hotel and I’m continuing to drink some beers, only having about one an hour or so because that’s all I really needed to start feeling it, extreme lightweight. We meet up with some other friends and head up to Dirty 6th. Everything is going well for a couple hours until my friend wants to meet up with a girl he matched on Tinder. We go to another bar and meet with this girl and her friend, they have a quick conversation and start making out, leaving me standing there until I notice another guy I was deployed with at the bar. I go talk to him and he suggests we take some shots, to which I reluctantly agree.
After about two my friend with the Tinder date comes over and we take a few more. That is the last thing I remember. The next day I wake up in the hotel bed fully clothed with a hospital band on. Having zero recollection of anything that happened to me, we start calling hospitals to try and piece it together.
Finally find out which one I was at and head there, they can’t tell us much but give us my records. Turns out I was walking the streets when a cop found me, detained me and called an ambulance for me. While at the hospital, I was informed, I called my parents and was very disgruntled to which they had some very choice words with me the next day. I also have a conversation with a Doctor that went: Me – “Are you here to give me a massage?” Dr – “No” Me – “Well, fuck you then”. The entire next day and really week I was freaking out thinking that somehow my work would find out and I would be screwed, and my parents were extremely disappointed in me which really sucks as we have had issues with alcohol in my family before. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn from this incident and it took another 6th street drunk cop encounter, to which my GF, who was in Dallas that night bailed me out of, and also almost lost her because of that (which would have been terrible but we’re getting married now so it’s all good) that I finally cleaned up my act. After spending the better part of the last three years deployed in the Middle East, life is too short to get black out drunk on 6th street and act stupid.
In closing, big fan of Touching Base, helps break up the day out here and of course shout out to RBP. Sorry for the lengthy submission, have a good week.
Man, thankfully nothing worse happened. These stories are the ones that get me. They bring you to the brink of devastation only for things to turn out mostly okay in the long run. You can deal with a hospital bill, but it’s tough to deal with losing someone you love because of a drunken night out with #theboys.
Hey Will –
I spent the weekend visiting my family in my hometown. Was in bed at reasonable hours both Friday and Saturday and only had two (2) beers last night. Now I’m on the early flight back to Dallas and feeling v refreshed.
No scaries, I’m just here to stunt on everyone. Lylas.
Oh fuck off.
To preface my story, I’m living in Tokyo currently so international scaries.
So Halloween gets pretty fucking lit in Tokyo so me and some friends have just been going hard all weekend clubbing and the works. Decided to go to an internationals party last night for expats and such. Met up and made our way to the party, got there by 12.
So as soon as I step foot in the bar, I just started pounding jaegerbombs and vodka tonics to make up for arriving so late. Dance, drink, and talk for a while and then leave around 3. Now to the fun part.
I was pretty fucking wasted at this point but was still able to walk and function. We stop by a convenience store and pick up some post game drinks, in hindsight, a very bad idea. Proceed to walk 5km to friend’s apt because Ubers and taxis are mad expensive here. So I didn’t quite make it to the apartment and this is the point at which I remember very little.
Apparently, I ran off while we were walking and ended up getting lost. Puked in some bushes and decided to take a nap all by myself on the sidewalk of a quite street. So somewhere between puking in bushes, getting lost, and eventually finding my way to a subway station which only opens at 5am, I lost my phone. Worst part? I didn’t even realize it was lost until I was on the train back home. So, after unknowingly losing my phone, I stumbled my way down to the subway, waited about an hour for the first train and got on. So I still was pretty fucked and decided to take a nap. Long story short, I fell asleep and did laps around Tokyo on the subway from 5 in the morning until 12.
Finally got my sorry ass of the train and walked to my apt. Open my laptop to a metric shitload of texts from friends asking if I was dead and explain that I lost my phone. Anxiety at this point is through the roof. Spend the rest of my Sunday visiting police boxes and the metro company to look for my phone. Nothing. Now here we are. I promise I tell this story better in person. Never going clubbing again.
No lie, losing your phone is worse than losing anything else. I don’t care if you lsoe the keys to your apartment or your wallet and you have to replace your credit cards and ID. Paying for a new phone and having to deal with everything on a hungover Sunday morning is the worst feeling in the world.
Hi Will — after an unlimited 3 hour drink deal (and 14 vodka sodas) I hooked up with a friend of a friend of a friend last night, woke up this morning to him, gone, and just discovered that he WET THE BED. he left before i woke up and now I see why. Spending my sunday scaries washing all my sheets. Kill me.
Ever think that… maybe… just maybe… you… wet the bed? Just asking. But it was probably him. Roast him next time you see him out and make him buy you another 14 vodka-sodas.
Planned on having a chill Friday night so I could get a lot of studying (first year grad student) done on Saturday. Went and played some drinking games with friends and it got out of control quick. Ended up blacking out at some point. I’m not sure how I got home (did not drive) but I woke up extremely late Saturday morning with one of the worst hangovers of my life (went into Friday night with the strategy that if I only drank beer the hangover wouldn’t be too bad, I was wrong). I knew the day was pretty much shot as soon as I woke up, but that wasn’t even the worst part. I got out of bed and realized I had drunkenly ransacked my kitchen the night before, there was food everywhere. And I’m pretty sure I pissed on my floor. Ended up puking 5 times throughout the afternoon and didn’t get a damn thing accomplished all day. This weekend was a major wake up call that I can’t drink like my undergrad self.
Hahahahaha. Let this be a lesson to everyone — if you decide to have a “chill Friday,” the devil on your shoulder will catch up to you and force you into a wild Saturday. Happens every time. You almost have to go out hard Friday night to ensure you don’t go even harder on Saturday.
Getting hit hard on multiple fronts with scaries so I’ll keep this brief.
Got a little too drunk at a celebratory dinner & subsequent night out on Friday and made the mistake of answering a call from my ex. In a moment of weakness, he slept over and confessed he still had feelings for me and wants to make our (cancelled!) vacation plans for November work, as well as the relationship. It wasn’t a healthy or well-conceived relationship, and all my friends would kill me if they found out, but also I still care too much him to be logical so…..yikes. Help.
In the middle of a brutal hangover this morning #Halloween, I got a call from my mom letting me know that my 19 year old sister is in the hospital in Germany after getting clipped by a car while biking. They’re keeping her in for a few days for neuro observation as she got hit pretty hard in the head. Absolutely nothing feels as awful as feeling helpless while someone you love is in pain, and hearing that same anxiety in my nurse-mom’s voice was so, so terrible. Using this as on opportunity to remind everyone that it’s better to look nerdy wearing a helmet than it is to end up with a brain bleed so please, wear your helmets!!!
As if this wasn’t enough, I’m giving my 2 weeks notice to my severely understaffed team tomorrow. Scaries are pushing an 11/10. Any suggestions welcome.
Keep on killing the game man, we appreciate you.
And there we go — wear your helmets, guys and gals. I think this is a first time for that warning in the history of this series. But also, don’t feel bad about giving your two week’s notice to your boss. If you’re understaffed and doing too much, that’s more on them than it is on you.
I debated on whether or not I should submit this, but I decided to say fuck it and do it anyway.
Let me provide some back story. A few weeks ago, I matched with a dude on Hinge (as any good love story begins). We had a good repertoire so we set a first date to attend a hockey game on a Tuesday night. It was a great date and decided to make plans for a second date for Thursday. This time it was a college football game. I guess we were hitting it off because he asked me to be his date to a white tie debutante event. I had never been to a deb thing before and who doesn’t love a good excuse to dress up, so I eagerly agreed to go.
Fast forward two weeks. We had been on one more date and had texted everyday leading up to it. I did the whole nine yards for this event. Nails, hair, facials, spray tan, new dress and accessories, basically I spent a lot of money on this.
On the day of, I had to ride up with his parents since he was presenting someone. It was a nice evening but something about debutantes seems so backward and kind of weird. The party was insane, they must have spent millions of dollars on it.
I had a great evening with this guy. We took pictures, danced, and I met all of his ritzy friends. There were endless drinks poured and I ended up with a slight buzz. The food being served also looked delicious but I was addy-ed out and didn’t have an appetite.
We leave the party and go home to his parents’ house (who he lives with…at 26) and we have sex. The sex wasn’t very good and he didn’t know how to please a woman, but he got off at least 🙄. Post-coital, we are lying naked and cuddling and he starts to tell me that he isn’t interested in continuing our relationship.
Now let me just say that I kind of sensed this leading up to the event. There were a lot of red flags and I knew we wouldn’t work out long term. Still my dumbass caught feelings.
Anyways while he’s saying we should end things (remember we are naked and cuddling), he also goes on to say that there is someone else.
My heart went cold. He really didn’t have to say that part and it pissed me off. So I decided to get my naked ass up and go sleep in the guest bedroom where I was suppose to be. I can’t Uber home because I live 40 minutes away so I do what any tired, drunk, broken-hearted girl would do and call her best friend and sob with her for 20 minutes.
In the morning, I wake up and go to his room to give him a piece of my mind but then I end up having sex with him again (his parents weren’t home). We then went to go get kolaches and cinnamon rolls and watched Daredevil on Netflix. When I left, I told him to delete my number and block me on social media because I never wanted to speak to him again. It wasn’t that I was mad at him, it’s just I needed to not be able to creep on him for my own sanity.
I’ve been moping around my apartment all day that I caught feels for a dude I knew that wasn’t a good match for me. I was extra petty and posted a pic of us with him cropped out on my insta-story. (I’ve attached it for your viewing pleasure but please don’t publish it). I’m also pissed on how much money I wasted to get a formal gown and all the beauty preparations. I didn’t even meet a potential sugar daddy!
Tomorrow is a new day and I have a ton of shit to do at work, which for once i am grateful for. Also, he was a Texas fan so I’m low-key happy they lost yesterday. Writing this out was extremely therapeutic, thank you so much for the column.
Call me crazy, but isn’t it a weird move for him to ask you to this if you aren’t going to continue the relationship beyond it? Like did he just want a piece of arm candy? I mean, I can verify from the photo you sent that maybe he did just want some arm candy at this shindig, but I still don’t get the move on his part because it was always going to end with him looking like a total dick.
Oh well. See everyone next week. .