Tradition Turns... Sloppy

Remember last year when at our area Saint Paddy's Day Parade I got hammered and hooked up in a hotel lobby?

This year, inclement weather kept us from wandering too much, and we remained in the same bar for hours on end. We started drinking around 11 am and I guzzled beer after beer. Pacing myself? Not an option for this event.

Needless to say, by early afternoon I had developed a buzz and was feelin' pretty good. The bar was beginning to get crowded and I was running into acquaintance after acquaintance. After all my friends had gathered, we took our traditional car bombs. When Belinda couldn't finish hers, she gave it to me.

Uh oh.

My hand never void of a beer, I danced around like my usual self. Though drunk, I was also on a natural high since I was so excited that all my close friends were together for this annual event. Always on the prowl, I decided it was necessary to find someone nearby to make out with. Though the guy I was sort of seeing was in the other room of the bar, he wasn't doing it for me that day. Instead, I began getting touchy with one of the guys from our crew. This member of our crew, Marty, happened to be a guy I dated in high school for all of two weeks.

The rest of the afternoon is a bit fuzzy, and I ended up going to that guy I was seeing's apartment for a drunken rendezvous. Definitely nowhere near Marty.

The next morning, I woke up feeling like I'd gotten hit by a train. And while riding said train to work, Janelle informed me that I had made out with Marty.

I suddenly had a moment of clarity.

I looked at my cell phone and saw the outgoing text I was dreading.

"Sex?", sent to Marty at approximately 4:23 pm.

I deleted it, hoping that if it was erased from my phone maybe it'd be erased from memory as well.

Alright so, drunken me made a text proposition. To a guy I had no interest in, unless I had +/- 10 drinks in my system. Who I see frequently. And I was probably within three feet of him when I pressed send.

At least I was direct with my proposal.

I tried to forget, and luckily have yet to have any awkward encounters with Marty. And the girls have reassured me that he was probably just as drunk as I was. Phew. Maybe he forgot he ever recieved it. Even better, maybe he'd never gotten it!

Weeks later, I had moved on from the whole incident. That is until Porter made reference to my erased text.

Another parade day I'll just never live down.