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Another Monday, another crop of stories that make you regret going out all weekend. But hey, it’s summer and that’s what we’re supposed to do. Come February, we may even revisit these stories for a taste of what July felt like.
Before we do this week’s stories, make sure to listen to the most recent episode — and every other episode — of The Sunday Scaries Podcast. In fifteen minutes or less, it’ll cure your Scaries and/or Monday Blues. I promise.
If you’re planning on reading this entire column, you can even knock out the first episode before you’re finished. Here, give it a try.
As always, these are brought to you unedited from readers just like you. Original stories in quotes. If you want, send your worst stories to email@example.com or forever bottle up your debauchery. Let’s get it.
A few weeks ago I recently got back from Germany and my girlfriend and I decided to stay in for the night and have a game night with two other couples. Seems harmless enough.
About 8 o’clock we decided to have Chinese before we start drinking and the couples arriving, and she orders peanut butter chicken (I am allergic to peanuts, take a guess where this is going).
The nights going well, playing games, having fun and about midnight or so I am very intoxicated and head to the fridge to eat my leftover Chinese. I proceed to stumble downstairs and pass out in her bed while everyone else is still up.
Fast forward to the next morning and I wake up next to my girlfriend and there is puke all over the bed. I wake her up and we have a debate about who threw up in their sleep. I claimed it wasn’t me, she claimed it wasn’t her. About five minutes after being awake I realized that my face and arms are very itchy and look down to see hives all over the place. (She also went for some late night leftovers before bed and threw up peanut butter chicken all over me).
I rush to the shower to wash off all the puke and end up transferring some peanut butter vomit into my eyes so I look like a grade a shit show getting out of the shower.
Drive over to the nearest Walgreens and pick up Benadryl and take 4 right away and luckily my body calms down. Makes me incredibly drowsy so I pass out while watching the World Cup til 2.
She vowed to never eat peanut butter again while around me again but looking back, I think it’s pretty damn funny.
You should already feel terrible for puking in the bed, but when puking peanuts onto your boyfriend who has a serious nut allergy? Come on.
This is legitimately a situation I never could’ve come up with on my own. Switched plates at dinner? Maybe. Reaction through a kiss? I guess? Puking on your boyfriend which, in return, makes him break out with an allergic reaction? Absurd.
Last Sunday evening, I got back home from a short 24 hour trip to New York during which I got both sunburned and drunk — but not to excess, thanks to a 2am taco mid-bar hop. I started my new job the following day, and although having to wake up an hour and a half earlier than my previous job, all was going well for the first few hours.
Two hours in, I was sitting in a meeting with my boss and several principals trying my best to pay attention and ignore waves of nausea that had been progressing for the past hour and a half. I left halfway through the meeting to make a bathroom trip, and then left before the end of the meeting without saying a word because I was scared if I opened my mouth I’d vomit on the conference room table. I ran down the hallway to the bathroom, but three steps away from the door I threw up into my hand. I barged into the bathroom and continued throwing up in the toilet. The bathroom is only two stalls and someone was in the one next to me. I half-missed the toilet the first round, so some puke got in that person’s stall. Then two people came into the bathroom and had to wait in line and listen to me throw up. Some kind soul left me a cup of water on the sink, and I bet they could tell it was me through the cracks in the stall. One week in and I have yet to make any friends in the office. Hoping they don’t think I was 1) really nervous for my first day or 2) pregnant. Hopefully my reputation isn’t tainted here forever as that girl who puked on her first day. Any tips or recs on redemption techniques are welcome.
Ohhhh nooooo. Your worst day is bad enough — no idea where to eat lunch, you get handed a bunch of responsibilities to learn, and you’re almost always either over- or under-dressed. Then to puke all over the place too? Too brutal.
I just want a break, Will.
Monday: put down childhood dog. Results in emotional drinking rest of the week
Wednesday: withdraw cashiers check for a fuck ton more money than I would have preferred to secure a new apartment.
Friday: played fortnite til 4am with only the company of miller lite tall boys because that’s what normal 25 year old dudes do right?
Saturday: 4pm to 2am heavy drinking on Little sleep, Ended up at Bar i frequent and allegedly twerked on a waitress
Sunday: mistakenly made a “let’s grab drinks” date for 8:30pm but DID get to see a killer Tom Petty and the heartbreakers Cover band.
Monday: 3/4 through my hour long commute realize I left my laptop at home.
This coming Friday: brewery crawl for best friends bday.
This coming Saturday: moving to new apartment, plans with the parents in the evening which will include lots of wine.
That’s a ringer. Maybe axe out the 4 a.m. Fortnite because that just seems like a lot of wasted time. I don’t know.
Apologies about the dog. As someone who spent the majority of Sunday morning taking his dog to get checked out at an emergency vet, I can’t fathom actually putting a dog down. Sure, I experienced it with childhood dogs, but when everything rests solely on your shoulders, it has to hit harder.
So Kansas City has free country concerts on Thursday nights during the summer. Casey Donahew played last night and I couldn’t miss it. I guess forgot to eat supper. Pregamed with a bottle of wine. Found a place serving frozen rosé with vodka. I have regrets. My boyfriend is literally a saint and I do not deserve him. He was responsible and DDed us. He got to pull over while driving us home so I could throw up. Fell out of his truck into my own puke. Probably have a butt bruise. Had to ride the rest of the way home in my bra and underwear because of puke on my dress. Also how I walked into his place and of course his white trash neighbors had to be out smoking cigs, so I’m sure they got quite the spectacle. Did manage to shower and wash my dress, so I’ll take that win. Also drunk me is a very affectionate sweetheart and spent the evening telling my boyfriend how much I love him and want to marry him. Tried to drink water this morning and threw up again. This is the second time in the last month and a half I’ve thrown up hungover. Aging sucks. The drive from his place to work was horrible and I’m almost definitely going to end up taking a half day today. Please send Ts and Ps. All I want is a McDonald’s hash brown and to be curled up in my bed.
Man, a lot of people getting puke all over themselves this week. Respect.
Just booked my trip to Austin in two weeks. Can’t wait to be sitting on the plane home writing to you about my bender. How much fun will it be? It easy to say. A lot. Gas me up.
Austin? So fun. The plane ride home? Literally the worst.
Non alcoholic scaries. Long time first time.
My wife and I had our first baby last weekend, at the same time I was moving to our new apartment with my in laws because our landlord wanted to sell and was a heartless bitch (Baby and Mom are doing great 👍🏽)!
Fast forward one week at IKEA dropping $400 on new furniture that my wife said we absolutely “needed.”
Also my parents came and saw the baby and the freshly moved in apartment, at least they brought us dinner and my mom told us she started taking cannabis pills to help her “calm down.”
Going to build all our furniture tomorrow with some heavy margaritas.
Damn, your mom sounds chill as hell.
Just be glad your wife made you go to Ikea rather than, like, Pottery Barn. $400 could look like a drop in the well down the line.
Ya girl is coming to you live again from everyone’s favorite redneck music festival- Jamboree in the Hills. Sunday is just getting started and I’m already drinking so before I get too wasted, here’s a little recap of the more terrible things from this weekend (again- I love everything about this place, so the pain is worth it).
• my brother’s best friend kissed me- so things are a littttle awkward rn
• I woke up Friday morning in the drivers seat of my brother’s truck- not my tent (no, I didn’t drive anywhere. I just passed out when I went to plug my phone in. I didn’t even get to plug it in smh)
• a newscast was filming live from the venue and I am 100% in the back of it throwing up on- not in- a trashcan
• my voice is nonexistent
• I have bruises EVERYWHERE
• someone lost our 3 x 5 ft bright orange cooler so at 3 am Friday night, a scavenger hunt ensued
• I flashed a random guy because I thought he was going to give me beads- he didn’t, and definitely was a little offended at me
• a guy I made out with at the festival FIVE YEARS AGO, won’t leave me alone
• I was this close to getting in my first physical altercation because some newbie kept stealing my beers
• I think I have the flu, not a hangover.
But, the worst of all didn’t happen to me. Another new guy in our group saw a dude back flip off a stage, so he attempted a front flip, overshot it, and bit through his lip. So, for the billionth year in a row, a member of our group went to the hospital.
All in all, a pretty tame weekend. If I remember anything else today, or if some other crazy shit happens, I’ll send a follow up.
Three things that I just can’t be around in public anymore: rednecks, music, and festivals. There’s a hundred percent chance I’d get bullied or beat up at this thing but some dude with a Calvin & Hobbes pissing sticker on the back of his dirty truck.
Came to Chicago on a redeye from SFO on Wednesday night with my gf for a wedding. Cubs game/day drinking all day Friday. Cubs get trounced but we decide to bar hop the rest of the night. As we’re on our way back to her parents in a Lyft, she throws up in her lap. Driver doesn’t notice so we’re good.
Go to the wedding Saturday after brunch with the fam sans alcohol. I choose to scale back the drinking due to taking the first flight out (9:10am) back and driving a full car of our friends. Gf goes full throttle again but manages to puke outside the her mom’s Infiniti I was driving on the way home. Go to bed at 1:30am, wake up at 6am and see our flight is delayed 2 hours. Now sitting at the airport, 4 hour & 20 minute delay for our 4.5 hour flight. Tiger is tied for the lead and there’s no tv’s with it on in airport. FOMO and Scaries are hitting hard. Atleast im not hungover. Ts&Ps for a easy Monday @ work.
Every. one. is. puking. this. week. end.
And. I. respect. the. hell. out. of. it.
I take the North Carolina bar exam on Tuesday. I have never been more mentally and emotionally fragile. T’s and P’s.
First off. Huge fan of the new pod. Listening to The Sunday Scaries Podcast is like having a coach for my hangovers.
So anyways, on Saturday my boys and I went golfing. Nothing crazy there, had a few beers on the course and was rocking a solid buzz by the time the Uber dropped me and my buddies off at my apartment.
Wanting to keep these buzz going the four of us walk over to one of our favorite establishments in Minneapolis. As we’re walking to the door a car pulls up and a guy gets out of it with the Stanley Cup and walks into the bar escorted by what seemed like every bouncer this bar had on staff.
We walk in immediately behind the cup and follow it as far as we can until the cup went up a staircase and the bouncer roped it off and wouldn’t let anyone through. We learn that a player from the Caps has rented out the rooftop of the bar to host a Stanley Cup celebration.
The four of us decide that we’re shit out of luck getting up to the rooftop party so we settle for a booth by the window downstairs and start slugging $2 vodka sodas to make the most of the remaining 45 minutes of happy hour.
After about 4 vodka sodas, and the healthy buzz for golfing earlier, I see a girl walk in whom I know. I say hi and she mentions that she was hired to be the photographer for this party upstairs. So, thinking fast, I tell her to give me her tripod and I walk up the stairs with her right into the stand let cup party.
It was awesome. I kissed the cup, had a few beers from the open bar, and had a good time.
After a little while a woman, who I have to assume is the mom of this NHL player, comes up to me and asked me who I was. I told her my name and that didn’t seem to satisfy her, apparently my name doesn’t carry much weight around the NHL… Then she asked me who I knew there, being a drunk dumbass I told her the name of the photographer that I came in with, she recognized that name and did not seem too happy. I immediately rip off my wrist band, set down my beer and tell her that I was sorry and I was going to leave and left.
About two hours later I got a call from said photographer and she was not happy. Apparently me saying her name almost got her fired. By the time she had called me I was well on the way to a long blackout so I don’t remember much more of the conversation.
I texted her today and apologized again, but I think she is, rightfully, still pretty upset.
It was a fun time, but the Sunday Scaries are in full effect.
Sure, you pissed off your friend… but that was COMPLETELY worth it.
Not to brag, but I’ve partied with the Stanley Cup (twice) and it’s hands down the most memorable partying experience ever. Again, that’s not me bragging that I’ve partied with the Stanley Cup (twice), that’s just me saying that I’ve partied with the Stanley Cup (twice) so I can identify with the dude who partied with it.
I got thrown on out of Billy Bob’s for being too drunk. The cop said “Hey you gotta go” and I said “You’re absolutely right.”
When you know, you know.
debit card blocked for fraudulent activity on friday, leaving me with $16 cash for the entire weekend since my replacement credit card hasn’t come in the mail yet.
Time to see who your friends are and ask someone to take some cash out for you.
Go back to work tomorrow after 6 weeks off. Alarm’s set for 4:45 AM.
SIX WEEKS? I want to feel bad for you, but… I… I don’t. I’m sorry. I’m of no help to you.
I was hoping that I would never have to write this email to you, but with my recent bender it was only a matter of time.
Last night I went into New York City to meet up with an old friend to catch up and grab some drinks. I was planning on a casual night and to be at home in my bed by 1. After making friends with a bartender he generously offered us drinks on the house, a deal my poor ass couldn’t resist to abuse. Many IPA’s and tequila shots later, my memory fades into almost nothing. I remember getting home around 2:30 and being a little disappointed by the time but figured it could be a lot worse.
Little did I know the damage was much, much worse.
This morning I look at my phone and saw I drunk texted my ex saying I love her and want to get back together. Once again, kinda disappointed in myself but also brush it off as not the worst thing that can happen.
Then, I went to CVS to go buy a pedialyte and my debit card got declined. I didn’t think much of it and figured my bank froze my card for some weird reason because that happens fairly often. I go home and look at my bank statement and see that I made a 2000 dollar purchase at Bloomingdales. In the past I’ve tended to forget that I’m not rich when I’m drunk but it’s never been this out of control. I frantically tore apart my house looking for whatever I bought so that I could return it but it is nowhere to be found.
Calling my bank tomorrow to see if there’s anything that can be done but I am truly terrified.
Wish me luck!
I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: stop drinking more than one IPA. It’s just not worth it. Yesterday, I had one (1) IPA before going grocery shopping and I felt like I was hammered up until checkout.
Also, the people need to know what you bought at Bloomingdales. .