Here’s something to keep in mind: if you’re like me and have apartment neighbors who claim to be “Hollywood club promoters” (read: complete and utter d-bags) who are so loud that you must take an Ambien to sleep…do not and I repeat do not allow yourself to spend time on Facebook. I took that Ambien and after having a fight with my robe, I promptly scurried over to my computer, logged onto Facebook and did a “people search” for every ex-boyfriend I’ve ever had. One of said exes (with whom I’ve been broken up nearly eight years) had a picture of a baby next to his name. And so Ambien and I did what any balanced, healthy young ladies would do…we emailed him the following. “Dear Hank, It appears you have become a tiny baby. Congratulations on that and I hope you have fun as a baby. Yours, Cecily”\
Okay, let’s break this down. First of all, the very idea that I would even contact this person so nonchalantly after EIGHT YEARS is preposterous. (We did have a brief encounter at a mutual friend’s wedding five years ago, when he tried to politely say “hi” but I was too busy tastefully doing shots with the bartender). So years go by and… “Oh hey, Hank. You’ve got a picture of a baby by your name so I guess you’re now…what? A baby?”
Let’s give me and Ambien the benefit of the doubt and assume we were joking. Still…after eight years, it seems like surely we’d have come up with something better. And why would I sign it “Yours”? I am not his and he is certainly not mine and did I mention it has been eight years? Luckily, Hank was one of the more forgiving exes and he was cool about the whole thing, replying, “Yes, it’s true. I am now a tiny baby.”
For now, although Ambien and I are still speaking, we are no longer having three-ways with Facebook or cell-phones or anything in which we can hit a send button and get ourselves in trouble. It’s for the best.
Do you have some drunk (or otherwise)-dial stories? Email them to: Shescrazyhesaliar@gmail.com
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