Tonight I was talking to this guy Matt I recently met about hard times and substance abuse, and we were agreeing that neither of us liked bars that much unless there was live music to make it worthwhile, and that drunk people were mostly a drag.
This woman Danielle I don’t know too well and IndieGirl I talk to sometimes whose name I have never got straight suddenly thundered in and sat down with us. IndieGirl was hammered. She’s always an entertaining high-speed talker. After drinking all day she’s a loud, random, entertaining, high-speed talker. She had kissed the bartender at the last bar and was celebrating and/or agonizing over this fact. I made fun of her a little bit but she didn’t mind. Meanwhile Danielle was explaining to me that her fortysomething boyfriend (she’s an undergrad) wasn’t the same one as before, and that she had traded the previous fortysomething boyfriend with kids in for a new one.
IndieGirl’s phone rang and it was the bartender, who of course wanted to meet her after work. At this point it was 8 pm and she was so drunk that she kept repeating GOD I AM SO DRUNK! until I was repeating it with her. I told her that she would wake up at around 2:30 with a pounding headache, simmering nausea, and a soul full of regret and then the phone would ring and it would be the guy. She yelled GODDAMN IT YOU ASSHOLE YOU’RE RIGHT. She then drunk-dialed her mother.
All in all she was a pretty friendly and entertaining drunk. She high-fived me twice when I made fun of her. I should have manipulated her into casual, pointless sex. Why do I always think of these things afterwards?
Eventually they left to get into additional trouble. Fortunately Danielle wasn’t drunk. Matt and I were looking at each other like: well then. Drunk people!
Andy gave updates on the babygrinder industry that as usual scared the shit out of me, and Cat showed up, and other people showed up who only show up on holidays. That was kind of cool.
I actually don’t know what to do when I feel badly treated by someone, but I don’t think it’s really something that can be fixed, and it makes me want to fix it when that’s not useful, and I can’t get rid of the person or the situation or the feeling. Noticing that tonight made me realize that one thing I’m very bad at handling is crap situations in which there’s nothing I could or should do. I feel a sense of misplaced urgency that’s maddening when action would either be useless or destructive.
I’m a “make it better” person, I guess.
Los Primos makes one fucking great pork taco. Especially when you’re not one of the two abusively stereotypical mortgage bro guys who keeps calling the Mexican guy behind the counter “my brother” as he asks for free stuff.